The Nocturnal Meeting
by Raven7921
Summary: Hermoine's nightmares leave Draco in a place that he never knew he wanted to be... in her arms.
1. The Tale Unfolds

Disclaimer: I regret that I own nothing.. But my sick and twisted imagination..  
  
Chapter 1: The Nocturnal Meeting, The Tale Unfolds  
  
Awake. So suddenly awake. Those terrified screams have woken me once more Hermione thought to herself. A minute later she realized that she had been the one screaming. "Not again" she sighed. This would make yet another night woken by her nightmares. The dismal prospect of going back to sleep only to have the nightmares return was not something Hermione looked forward to. So she gathered her robe and a heavy brown leather book that looked to have seen the beginning of time and headed silently to the common room. Once there she deposited the robe and book onto the nearest chair and started a roaring fire.  
  
Through tear soaked eyes she surveyed the room. She reflected on the fact that this year she had been told that she was being awarded the honor of Head Girl. Even though she had been expecting this surprise, the news had momentarily taken her breath away. This year she would have her own quarters. She had become ecstatic while her thoughts roamed the prospect of complete freedom. She had no boundaries but the ones she made upon herself. Finally she could study all night long with no interruptions. As much as she cared for Harry and Ron, sometimes she needed her solitude. Lastly, the Gryffindor common room was not a place to hide away from interruptions. If it wasn't a heated debate going on there were the constant parties. Studying had become near impossible for her there. Being awarded Head Girl had given her hopes for the new school year, until she found out whom the Head Boy was.  
  
Her face creased into a frown as she remembered that her Slytherin archenemy was sleeping mere feet away in his private luxurious quarters. He's not plagued by reoccurring nightmares thought Hermione smugly.  
  
Rubbing her temples she made herself some coffee and prepared to settle in for another lonely night curled into a chair by the fire. She had been reading the last chapter of the worn leather book when she heard the click of a lock. Moments later a disgruntled and weary Draco came waltzing into the common room shared by the Head Boy and Girl.  
  
The first thing Hermione noticed was that he was barefoot. She didn't know why, but that simple fact made her slightly flustered. She realized that she found his bare toes to be slightly enticing.in a very disturbing way. As her eyes slowly traveled up she took in his rumpled flannel night pants, slightly accentuating the fact that he had grown over the summer. Eyes continued up and she observed that he had not bothered to put on a shirt before his confrontation. At the sight that awaited her eager eyes she inhaled deeply. In the short summer apart from Hogwarts Draco had turned into a man. His tight stomach muscles made her mouth go dry and flat nipples had her unconsciously licking her lips. With tousled blonde hair hanging down into his steel eyes he made a picture perfect image of a sex god. There was only one problem; he wore an expression of utter disdain.  
  
"Granger, if you plan on waking me from my beauty sleep every morning 3 hours prior to sunrise I suggest that you find a better way of doing it." Draco's reply, which had started out arrogantly had ended in a barely audible plea.  
  
Could this be true? No harsh rhetoric statement from my nemesis? Hermione thought.  
  
As Draco took in Hermione's slim figure clad in a silk nightgown he felt all his anger vanish. He tried desperately to remember that he had left the sanctity of his room to degrade and insult the filthy mudblood for waking him at this ungodly hour, yet again, but his mind at the moment was completely blank.  
  
He realized that he was staring, now fully awake, at a very startled Miss Granger in her nightclothes. This sight would not have been worthy of a second glance except that said nightgown, while entirely proper at any other angle, had become transparent with the roaring fire behind her.  
  
Draco could make out that she had also changed over the summer. He noted the dark silhouette of her form through the gown. Her hips were nicely rounded. Her legs were shapelier, and. slowly his eyes started to roam up. But before his gaze could rest on anything higher Hermione grabbed her robe off the arm of the chair and concealed herself from his view.  
  
Her face was flushed, having noticed the path of Draco's eyes, and the emotions that briefly flickered through them. She registered shock, disbelief, a slow smugness, and then something like lust before she could remember to move. As she turned back she thought his face reflected disappointment, but the walls had come up so quickly that before she could question it his face had taken on a mischievous quality. Then the little imp opened his mouth and said, " I do believe that you are catching on. That was definitely a more pleasant way of waking me up." With that said Draco turned on his heels and left the room.  
  
His abrupt departure had left Hermione with a lot to think about. First, why was he just staring at her like that? He had come into the room positively fuming his rage and she had been sure his intent was to degrade her. But he has left in a completely different mood. Second, why did that encounter leave her flushed and panting? Hermione shivered, even that blazing fire couldn't warm her right now. When Draco left the room he had taken all the heat with him. With a feeling of solitary longing she returned to her room to ponder these feelings and eventually fell into a restless sleep.  
  
Draco, in the room next door, was also having difficulty sleeping. 


	2. Shared Denial

Disclaimer: I own nothing. except my sick and twisted imagination..  
  
Chapter 2: Shared Denial  
  
" Just what in the bloody hell had happened in there?" Draco thought. His mind kept flashing the all too vivid glimpse he had gotten earlier of Hermione, gloriously naked before the fire. "I'm only human. I wasn't really looking. It was right in front of me. It's not like I like the filthy mudblood." These thoughts streamed steadily through his guilty head. But in the end his conscience wouldn't let him rest. He felt himself becoming flushed every time he thought of the moment passed. His sheer humiliation at having become excited from her left him no choice but to make a hasty retreat back to his room.  
  
At least she hadn't noticed the overly evident erection she had caused. That would have been devastating. "Granger slut" he said to himself. Though deep in his heart he knew that statement to be untrue. The only fault that Hermione possessed was that she was naive. She probably had no idea that a light or fire behind such flimsy fabric would cause it to seem see through to any viewer. "Damn". Just dwelling on the thought made his heart start pumping. Draco decided that a cold shower was probably in order if he wanted to sleep again tonight.  
  
With a new fantasy firmly hidden deep in his subconscious Draco made his way to the joining bathroom.  
  
Before finally slipping into sleep Draco's mind beheld one last image. A tear streaked face full of surprise, soft brown hair, and even softer brown eyes. He dreamt of kissing away the tears, of holding a slightly curvy body pressed against his as he soothed all fears. He dreamt he was a hero, for at least one person. Waking a few hours later he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had dreamt of Hermione.  
  
Confusion and resignation flared in him. He would ignore this ridiculous hormone induced dream, naming it as only that - hormone induced. He was stressed lately and had not had the time to purge himself of his built up tensions. Deciding that must be the cause, as it couldn't possible be any kind of budding feelings for the Granger girl.  
  
Draco's lighthearted mood dramatically increased once he had made his somewhat biased conclusion. With an easier mind he hastily dressed himself in his newly acquired robes, and taking a deep breath he headed down for breakfast.  
  
Hermioine, in the other room, was busy telling herself a totally different lie. She had relived the night over and over and had settled for It was just a play of the light. Draco never shows emotions so I must have imagined it. I am just exhausted. In her sleep deprived mind the excuse made perfect sense. After all, she hadn't been sleeping soundly with her nightmares returning every other night.  
  
"Yes, that has to be it. It is the only logical explanation." She muttered to her reflection in the mirror. Feeling better with every heartbeat she dressed in her Gryffindor robes, dismissed the nocturnal meeting, and headed to breakfast, where Harry and Ron were waiting. 


	3. A Civilized Confrontation

Disclaimer: I own nothing. but my sick and twisted little imagination  
  
Chapter 3: A Civilized Confrontation  
  
As the day wore on Hermione realized that she had been dozing more often than she was paying attention. She had to keep reminding herself that this habit was going to get her Head Girl privileges revoked. And who could blame them, what kind of an example was she setting if she couldn't even keep her eyes open for her Advanced Wand Craft class. She chastised herself severely for several minutes longer before she felt her eyelids becoming heavy.  
  
A sharp jab in the ribs from Ron jostled her awake. "Hermione, are you alright?" Ron's eyes pleaded sincerely to have her reassure him that everything was ok. "You keep napping and I know how much you have been looking forward to our guest speaker today." She had been bragging all week how she had convinced Mr. Olivander himself to teach their first chapter on Associating Woodwork.  
  
" I thought you would at least pay attention to what he had to say, seeing as you're so keen on the subject." Ron's reply sounded hollow in her ears. Hermione's eyes teared up as she apologized. " I haven't been getting the best of sleep lately". Her voice cracked with hurt and despair made Ron's heart stop. " Anything I can do?" He asked. A small smile formed at the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, just nudge me if I start to snore" she said with a laugh.  
  
The sound of Hermione laughing snapped Draco's head up. His eyes went instinctively to her. And just what did she think was so damn amusing? Draco's face became a mask of pure hatred as he watched Hermione and Ron's heads inches apart as they shared in some hilarious secret.  
  
Draco was furious in an instant. What do I care if Granger and Weasley get all close and cozy in the middle of class? It's only bothering me because I am becoming nauseous just thinking about them together.  
  
As if sensing someone staring at her, Hermione turned her eyes to the classroom to meet immediately with burning silver. Draco was forced to gasp at the intensity of her gaze. A slow smile had found its way into her profile, transforming her into Mona Lisa before his eyes. His own smile tugged at his lips in response.  
  
At that moment the bell signaled the end of the class and the two classes dissipated out the doors. They headed to their separate destinations.  
  
Draco would have plenty of time to ponder that secretive smile before he would see Hermione again. The only other class they shared was at the very end of the day. The Head Boy and Girl found themselves in an empty classroom for the last period, with an uneasy silence charged by the electricity of unsaid words.  
  
Neither wanted to be the one to initiate a conversation, so, as the time ticked by the atmosphere became even more unsteady. Draco finally cleared his parched throat and jumped into a conversation as if they had been life long friends. It was just small talk really, about the empty room, the weather outside, and anything else that he could say without actually saying anything at all.  
  
" Do you like the sound of your own voice or are you actually talking to me in a civilized manner?" Hermione's confusion had finally run out of guessing what was in his head. Honestly. to start up a conversation about absolutely nothing in particular, as if he was only continuing an earlier conversation. What was he thinking?  
  
Draco was taken back by the question but before he could reiterate the doors burst open and a cheery Dumbledore stood in the room. With the ever- present twinkle in his eye the Headmaster took in the pair. Hermione stood leaning over the nearest desk, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, glaring at Draco. Draco was sitting at the desk with his mouth gaping open like a fish out of water, vile insults at her audacity on the tip of his tongue.  
  
" Well Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. I am apparently right on time." He said with his deep chuckle. " I have scheduled the two of you to have patrol duty for the remainder of the day. Your duties as the Heads of your respected Houses permit you great leniency. You can wander anywhere on the school grounds that you prefer, and the normal rules do not apply to you. There is one exception that must be maintained. You are to patrol together at all times. Please understand that this is only a precautionary measure, as I don't doubt that you are both capable of walking the corridors alone. However I must insist that you obey this one simple rule." Dumbledore paused to make sure that they understood that this was not to be taken lightly. At their nods of acceptance he continued.  
  
" Now I must be off. Peeves has been terrorizing a house elf in the kitchen so badly that it is a wonder our food is even edible. If I can get dinner on the tables by 6:00 it will be a miracle". He winked, smiled, and disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.  
  
" Well, we had better get going." Hermione suggested. " God only knows what the students are doing right now."  
  
Together they searched the halls, while silently maintaining their truce. They wandered side by side until the bells chime signaled the end of classes. They had not had a single disturbance and yet the time had seemed to fly by.  
  
At the signaling of the bells Draco turned smoothly to Hermione, whispered goodbye, and joined his friends as they headed towards the Quidditch field for practice.  
  
Hermione was stunned by his goodbye. As she watched his muscular form shrink into the distance she shook herself off and headed to the library. She intended to escape her unwelcome feelings and thoughts of Draco buried deep in a book until she could fall asleep. 


	4. The Revelation

A/N: Copperblue: Thanks for the review. I will definitely take your idea into consideration. I only hope I can live up to all expectations. Zirconiatheblue: T/Y for the support. Here's your update. Applescm: *bows graciously*  
  
Disclaimer: I regret that I own nothing.. Except my sick and twisted imagination.  
  
Chapter 4: The Revelation  
  
By the time Quidditch practice was called to a halt the only light that could be seen was coming from a very full moon. Using only the stars to navigate his way back to the castle, Draco tripped twice in the black oblivion.  
  
His strenuous exercises had him near collapsing with exhaustion. Once in his room he removed his heavy green leather Quidditch outfit and slipped quietly into the shower. The scalding hot water did nothing to soothe his over exerted and tense muscles.  
  
Draco's head hung loosely under the steady stream as he placed his palms against the cool tile wall to hold himself up. He cleared his mind as he inhaled the clean scent of the water pouring over his neck, down his back and legs, and into the lazy circle to the drain. Peace overtook him at last.  
  
And just as easily as it had come, his peace of mind was gone. It had been shattered by an urgent scream and loud sobs coming from the other room. Slipping and falling in his haste, Draco wrapped a heavy towel around his narrow waist.  
  
Without hesitation he walked directly into Hermione's room, not bothering to knock. He sought her out in the darkness but she was not in her bed. A few more minutes of searching revealed her huddled with her arms wrapped tightly around her drawn up knees in the corner of the room.  
  
Tentatively her approached her. His hands were splayed out on either side of his hips, as if saying to her "I come in peace", showing her that she had nothing to fear from him.  
  
Her face fell into her hands as she tried to hide her tears. It was a battle she was going to lose. He watched as they slipped down, one by one, making a path down her cheeks, trailing under her trembling chin, and further down to the collar of her nightshirt.  
  
His tongue longed to trace that salty line down her graceful neck and into the hidden places. Before he realized what he had done Draco crossed the room in two long strides and gathered Hermione into his arms.  
  
Easily supporting her weight he gently carried her fragile form to her abandoned bed. He stretched out on top of the crumpled sheets while holding her close as deep sobs racked her body.  
  
He couldn't move. He was incapable of speech as his soul cried with her. Eventually her shaking ceased and her breath was no longer coming in short, quick gasps. In fact her breathing had become so regular that it appeared that Hermione had finally fallen back asleep.  
  
Draco couldn't believe that at the simple sound of her crying he had immediately felt the overpowering need to comfort her. He hadn't even made a conscious effort; he had just reacted naturally to the distressing situation.  
  
Not that rocking crying girls to sleep was a regular occurrence in Draco's past. It had just felt so right to hold her. Once she was nestled snuggly into his strong arms everything had become so simple.  
  
Draco knew that if time were to stop at this exact moment that he could be happy eternally, content with holding her forever.  
  
It was amazing to think how he had once despised her, and the way she had made him feel. He had always hidden the fact that deep inside he truly cared for her. It was a fact that he has concealed behind the mask of Slytherin indifference.  
  
With this revelation Draco decided that he had better be heading back to his own room. Now that Hermione was in a deep sleep he could bring himself to withdraw from her presence. He spared her angelic face one last glimpse before cautiously trying to slip his arm out from under her.  
  
The movement of her new pillow being pulled away made Hermione moan and entangle her limbs tighter around Draco. He tried one last time to dislodge himself from the sleeping girl only to succeed in momentarily waking her and forcing her to mumble "Draco.. Mmm. Don't go..Stop moving so much.. trying to sleeeeep."  
  
He decided that he had better stay put for the night. Making himself comfortable, he wrapped his arms around Hermione and rested against the headboard.  
  
He had only meant to rest his eyes for a moment. The plan to keep a watchful vigil over her to prevent any returning nightmares was a valiant one, but exhaustion had other plans for Draco. Before he knew it, he had fallen into a deep slumber. 


	5. Upon Waking

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.but my sick and twisted imagination.  
  
A/N: Broken Hermoine - you are too kind. I appreciate the review. Time Bomb87 - I have made that change, and yes.cuddly Draco has made for some interesting nights.yummy. Numellote- Here's the next Chapter. Hope ya didn't have to wait too long. GordoLuvr4Life8988- Hermione would kick my ass right now if she only knew of my most grievous mistake, thanks for the note. I have already changed it. Willowfairy - I love your brain. Together the two of us could twist the readers' heads so bad they would scream. lol. But for the time being I already have a few ideas of my own for you to nibble on..Damn my intellect for seducing me into the catacombs of this web.  
  
Chapter 5: Upon Waking  
  
A morning wrapped in splendor beckoned her to open her eyes at last. If only she could ignore it. She would love nothing more than to maintain her serene oblivion a little while longer. Hermione shifted in the warm covers only to find a muscular arm holding her firmly in place.  
  
"What the ." She cried out as her eyes flew open to behold a tranquil Draco pressed seductively against her in spoon fashion. Surprise was shinning in her every feature.  
  
"What are you doing in my bed?" Hermione exclaimed. Her outrage and confusion at the situation was evident in her voice.  
  
A disheveled Draco opened his stormy eyes, giving up the pretext of sleep. "I was just enjoying your company, Granger." He coolly replied with the familiar scowl. "Or don't you remember screaming your head off last night until I intervened?"  
  
From the look on her face Hermione was utterly bewildered. What was he talking about? Sensing that she was not accepting this as a plausible excuse, Draco tried to clarify the night's circumstances.  
  
"You were the one who made me stay in the room, in your bed in fact, until you fell asleep." Draco explained. He could tell that realization was beginning to dawn on her.  
  
"So, what are you doing still here?" she asked, as embarrassment shaded her face a crimson color that was Gryffindor worthy.  
  
"Well, you're so bloody intelligent, I assumed that you would put two and two together and realize that I must have fallen asleep." Draco snapped. His eyes flared steel into her soul, making her squirm.  
  
"And if you don't hold still and stop rubbing against me, we are going to have a serious problem."  
  
With that last comment Hermione's lethargic mind became fully alert. She became all too aware of the rigid erection pressed tightly into her hip. Draco realized that some time throughout the duration of the night he had lost his towel, and the only barrier between their bodies was Hermione's pajamas. Which, at the moment, were pushed perilously high up on her thighs.  
  
Hermione observed that her creamy white thigh was thrown carelessly over Draco's. As she blushed out her mortification Draco just smiled. Apparently the git has no morals what so ever.  
  
Draco thoroughly enjoyed her discomfort and refused to shy away from the enticing figure pressed against him in a very personal way. This was an unexpected gratification for his selfless sacrifice last night.  
  
He would have never guessed that when he had found her crying hysterically in the throws of a nightmare that his simple wish to comfort her would have resulted in his sharing her quarters. He had to smile; things did take a pleasant turn for the better.  
  
"If you would please stop grinning like an idiot, and get off me I would greatly appreciate it. Honestly, you think you had just climbed Mt. Everest or something." Hermione's temper flared. This comment did nothing but make Draco's smile deepen. His eyes reflected his amusement, practically laughing at her.  
  
Draco was enjoying this too much and refused to let the game end on a bad note. Besides, it was too easy to push her buttons and see that self- righteous glare vanish from her eyes.  
  
Shifting his weight on top of her he pinned her to the bed. "Oh, so sorry" Draco said in mock sincerity. "If you would just move your leg I could get mine out of these damned covers." He made a decent attempt to withdraw from the tangle of covers and limbs. He collapsed onto her again with a loud whoosh of breath. "Slipped, sorry"  
  
Hermione was gasping. Telling herself that it was due to the fact that he was pressing her into the mattress, which was entirely fabricated because he was mainly supporting his weight on his arms positioned above her head.  
  
His body came crashing down on hers as time and again he "struggled with the black hole that was her bed". Each time he came in contact with her, her body felt as if a fire was ignited directly into her veins. She felt awed by the way his sinewy muscles strained to support his weight, so as not to actually crush her. His body rubbed against her intimately as he once again slid his body up and down, left then right, in a feeble attempt to disentangle himself.  
  
Hermione wasn't aware when she stopped struggling against him and started to move with his rhythm, but Draco was. The knowledge that she was exploring the new sensations that this friction caused in her nearly drove Draco past the point of decency.  
  
Wasn't I the one who was supposed to be leading this little exercise? Where did she learn that move? Draco reflected silently. Hmmm. With the arching of her hips she has transformed me into her whimpering slave. How did I lose control of the situation so quickly? Draco thought.  
  
After all, she was clueless about what her moaning was doing to him. On the verge of losing his self-control, Draco pulled away. He hastily wrapped himself in his cast off towel and looked down on Hermione's face flushed with wantonness.  
  
She had no concept of what it was that she was craving, yearning for, but she knew that when Draco had stopped, she was left feeling unfulfilled. Trying not to sulk she decided to file the encounter away in her mind and to contemplate it at another time.  
  
With nothing to say to ease the harsh silence of the moment Draco tilted his chin up in the air and replied, " Feeling a little flushed, are we? Now who's the one grinning like an idiot?"  
  
Hermione's anger consumed her. He had been doing that on purpose, all the while knowing what he was doing to her. Making her feel.what?.satisfaction without fulfillment, unbelievable pleasure without any lasting sensations.  
  
She didn't voice any of these accusations because she wasn't all that sure that she was angry about them. She felt that she was caught in a game and no one bothered to clue her in on the rules. Draco apparently had the dice, and enough experience to use them. She huffed her frustrations and pointed to her door.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, please remove yourself from my room immediately." Her voice shook with livid intensity. "Anything you say, Love." He replied jovially. Upon reaching the heavy wooden door Draco turned to face her one last time, and smirking, bowed gracefully at the waist. 


	6. Nightmares Preservere

Disclaimer: I own nothing.but my sick and twisted imagination  
  
Time Bomb 87: ha ha ha. eunuch.*giggles* The Used rocks.Oh, and AFI.  
Yum, Davy sings like an angel.sometimes..and Brand New makes me  
miss surfing.  
  
Willowfairy: Just a funny phrase. I started out with nothing and still have most of it left.  
Chaos, panic, and disorder-My work here is done.  
  
Silent-Serpent.LOL. I love your enthusiastic attitude. But you get ahead of me.  
  
Anastasia Ju-Bok: We are devilishly clever aren't we? HA Ha. D-I-D syndrome shall  
prevail once more.  
  
Kristina Chang: Flattered. I hope I can hold your attention throughout the next chapters.  
  
Daintress: I am naughty, I know.But I hope to keep Draco in somewhat of his  
  
mischievous character.  
  
JamieGirl: Thanks kindly.  
  
GordoLuvr: A faithful reviewer. :}  
  
Beachglass5387: Thank you. You encouragement is always refreshing.  
  
-----------To all who reviewed, I want to thank you. You keep me pumping out my life's blood onto the pages. I am your addict.---------------------- -----------------------------------  
  
Chapter 6: Nightmares Persevere  
  
Draco and Hermione did not even glance at each other through their Advanced Wand Craft class. Hermione kept her head bowed over her book while her quill flew furiously across her paper as she attempted to keep her notes up to date with everything crucial being said. Oh, why hadn't she bothered to learn shorthand? Hastily she scribbled down the comparisons between this weeks selected woods and their magical properties.  
  
Draco was deep in thought as the class progressed to the next chapter. He was plagued by unanswered question. Why was Hermione having these nightmares? What were they all about? What could he do to cease their nightly assault on her?  
  
He couldn't classify their relationship anymore. He didn't know if they were enemies or friends. There was always the option that they were something more than friends, but that was a little far-fetched, even for him.  
  
He decided that he should be the one to broach the subject of where he stands in her eyes this afternoon while patrolling. That way, he could direct the conversation to his own interests. He liked to be in control of things, particularly conversations about his relationships.  
  
The class passed by slowly. Time dripping like molasses from one excruciating minute to the next, as dull and lifeless as his Slytherin friends. Hermione had not even looked in his direction once. Not that he had been watching or waiting for that girl to acknowledge his presence, but he had thought that she would at least notice he was in the same room.  
  
Hermione had her head bowed discretely almost the entire class. She ignored her comrades joking and playfully teasing her about her study habits and messy writing. She was interested in only one thing, how was she going to ever face Draco again. He had erupted feelings in her core that she couldn't come to terms with.  
  
She needed to talk to someone about this. But who? She searched the faces of her dearest friends. They were trustworthy, but not exactly her first choice in discussing her sexual escapade. She couldn't talk to them about her desires, or her fears.  
  
They had never really broached the subject of their relationships too deeply, afraid of opening Pandora's box. She knew deep inside that Ron still longed for a more fruitful relationship with her.  
  
They had dated, if that's what you would call it, last year for 1 week. It was a juvenile and imprudent romance, with no serious impressions. She realized that they had been better as friends.  
  
Ron had been a loving companion but the experimental relationship had almost driven a permanent rift between the three of them. The situation was just too awkward. So they had called it quits, mutually.  
  
It was her misfortune that Hermione had never bonded with many of the girls in her class. She had befriended Ginny Weasley, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had decided not to allow the little redheaded girl back to Hogwarts this year. They were still apprehensive about her disastrous encounter with Voldemort.  
  
Ginny had become very weak and ill when, after her first year in Hogwarts, she had been discovered with Tom Riddle's diary. The cursed diary acted like a vampire plaguing Ginny, devouring her life essence while reviving Tom's own physical potency. Harry had valiantly rescued her and destroyed the diary, but there were some lasting repercussions. Ginny became susceptible to the slightest illness, or curse.  
  
Madam Pomfrey had explained that the diary had contained some sort of unclassified magical virus, which had left Ginny's immune system fragile. She was still infected with this virus, which had become a recessed part of her genetic make-up from that day forward.  
  
She was currently in Switzerland visiting some of the more "experimental" Mediwitches. They had high hopes of finding a cure to permanently remove the virus, using a number of new techniques.  
  
Hermione sighed. With no one to turn to she decided that this situation was something that she would just have to figure out by herself. Another burden on her already weary shoulders.  
  
It didn't take an expert to realize that this stress was not helping her nightmare situation. As if receiving a back massage from a dementor, Hermione felt shivers run unchecked down her spine. She did not want to recall her nightmare, not now, in the middle of class. She could feel the tears begin to well up into her eyes.  
  
Hermione found that she couldn't stop shaking. The dreams threatened to come, swallowing all around her. The classroom faded and Hermione was left in a black oblivion of a horrific vision.  
  
The dreams were always the same. She would regain consciousness in the dark. Fear consumed her as she speculated if she had lost her vision, until her eyes adjusted to the shadows. The ghastly sights that awaited made her wish that she had gone blind.  
  
She could glimpse a black corridor, damp moss creeping through the aged brick ceiling of the forgotten dungeons. Dankness threatened to devour everything.  
  
A rotting corpse was her sole companion for the moment. Hermione gagged on the bile that rose from the overpowering smell of old death. Decay permeated the very air she inhaled. She was horror-struck from the unsanitary conditions.  
  
Chains bound her to the cold slab wall by clasps at both ankles. The rusted metal bit into her soft and tender flesh. She was crying as she fought against her restraints, causing sticky blood to run down to the soles of her bare feet. She has desecrated herself in her long wait, and the urine had gathered into a foul pool in the center of the floor.  
  
Hermione knew that she had been captive for too long. She was weak without sustenance, and shortly to join her friend on the wall. The familiar phrase came unbidden into her head, "Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever". Hermione closed her eyes. Chanting repeatedly that it was only a dream.  
  
A muffled sound echoed through the halls, but still her eyes remained closed. The captor approached at a leisurely pace, sinister words proclaiming his return. "What you don't understand", the evil tone producing a cold terror in Hermione, "is that I am trying to build an empire, an empire worthy of my greatness. One so powerful that even Dumbledore and his bumbling cohorts can't penetrate."  
  
"You, my dear, are the key to our salvation." The voice hissed its venomous words at her. "Your ultimate sacrifice shall seal their fate and provide us with the weapons of destruction." Serpent-like flickers of a tongue licked at her face. Hermione refused to open her eyes, knowing that in the end, the vision would be far worse than her imagination.  
  
"Of course they shall come for you." The enemy debated, as if she had spoken her negations. "Washed up Aurors and that fool of an old man will not rest until they have discovered your whereabouts. One by one they shall be brought before me. They will either fall at my feet and be embraced by our fold, or they shall perish."  
  
Hermione's screams pursued her into reality. The dreams always had a lasting effect on her. The pain and horror had felt so real. 


	7. The Bath That Changes Everything

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Chapter 7: The Bath That Changes Everything  
  
Hermione spent the rest of the day in the infirmary, due to her outburst. Humiliation devoured her as she insisted to Madam Pomfrey that she had been dozing and fallen asleep.  
  
She neglected to mention that she had actually been awake when the vision had occurred. Also overlooked was the fact that her hallucination had been the reoccurring nightmare that plagued her.  
  
The nurse muttered something about studying too hard, insisted on bed rest for the remainder of the day, and sent Hermione to her quarters for some much needed respite.  
  
Draco's patrol duty was a tedious waste of time. Worry for Hermoine's sanity had taken over his every waking thought. With 20 minutes left of the final period he stopped at the staircase that lead to their respected rooms, and looking around to make sure no one was in sight, he stopped his patrolling early.  
  
His heart was pumping as he raced up the stairs, long strides taking them two at a time. By the time he reached the landing his thigh muscles were pulsing with the exercise.  
  
Adrenaline forced him into a mad sprint through the deserted common room and to Hermoine's door, where he finally halted. He raised a shaking hand to the wooden door and quietly knocked, hoping that she was not sleeping.  
  
To his extreme satisfaction she was not. After a thorough search he found the bathroom door slightly ajar. Pushing it slowly open he beheld Hermione soaking in the oversized whirlpool tub, littered with yellow rose petals. Her eyes were closed and her head rested on a small cushion built into the rim.  
  
He felt devilishly evil for stealing these glimpses of her as she rested unaware. The water level came up to her shoulder blades, discretely hiding her breasts under the petals. He longed to scoop all them out and peer through the murky waters.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed mischievously as he took in his sweat-saturated condition, having just dashed up an unending flight of stairs. He decided that he couldn't wait a moment longer to indulge himself in a cleansing bath, and since one was already drawn... He shed his clothing with the expertise of an old whore and hopped into the scalding waters before Hermione even knew he was there.  
  
She screamed like a banshee as the water flowed over the lip of the tub and onto the tile floor. It took only an instant for her to surmise the cause of the rising water level.  
  
At that exact moment Draco came up from under the water, sputtering out the soap in his lungs. Hermione didn't hesitate. Staring at Draco as he nonchalantly scrubbed his body with her loufa, rose petals clinging to his dripping hair, her hand snatched out for her towel.  
  
Her towel was missing! Oh, the terror of the moment. Her eyes franticly searched around to discover it rolled up under Draco's discarded clothes, in the corner of the room. Draco resumed his scrubbing, seemingly oblivious to her presence in the tub.  
  
"You bloody oaf, get out!" Hermione screeched. Draco just batted his eyes innocently and replied, "Well, I'd say.. No manners, none at all. The tub is clearly big enough for the two of us to comfortably share, but fine, horde it all yourself, stingy girl. I am finished anyways. Fine thanks I get for bringing the class assignments up to you."  
  
He rose up with catlike grace, as Hermione's eyes widened from the glorious view he provided. His body dripped soapsuds and canary colored petals into the tub. He was inches away from her, standing feet spread, shoulders squared, and head thrown back defiantly. Poised like a Greek god, arrogantly naked, mere inches from her face.  
  
He stepped gracefully out and glided over to his clothes. He scooped them up, not bothering to dress. He carefully removed a few pieces of parchment that listed the assignments, and walked to where Hermione sat, arms crossed to conceal her in the cooling tub. He dropped them into the murky water and strode back to the common room.  
  
With the immediate danger to her unblemished virtue passed, Hermione gathered enough dignity to leave the comfort of the bath. There was only one small problem; Draco had left with her towel, securely hidden in the bundle of his clothes.  
  
Draco saw a streak of flesh as Hermione rushed past the common room and into her quarters. He chuckled. She was too uptight for her own good. He had no such reservations, as he lay nude before the fire. He preferred this method of drying to any other.  
  
Secretly he hoped that Hermione would venture forth from her chambers to discover him in this sensual atmosphere. As if answering his prayers, she burst through the room. "Draco we need to talk. Please dress yourself." Impatience rang through the words.  
  
Draco made no attempt to comply with her request. He stretched before the fire, managing to look bored. He noted that her eyes roamed over the floor, the fire, the ceiling...anywhere but on him. "Clearly you feel intimidated. Who can blame you, I tend to be very confident in the face of my peers."  
  
"That is exactly what we need to discuss" Hermione whispered. "You cannot take such liberties while I am present, it's not decent. I try to always maintain a modest level of professionalism in our dealings, and I demand that you make likewise moral commitments." To her utter disbelief she recognized that her last phrase had been directed at Draco's manhood. She was having difficulty removing her eyes from it.  
  
"What was I saying?" She mumbled, curiosity never dropping her gaze. Draco's smile was victorious as he pointed out that she was chastising him on his severe deficiency of modesty. With a demure expression he thought it only proper to make his staff spring in response. She gaped at him in awkwardness.  
  
When he had her thoroughly befuddled he rose and cut the distance between them. Hermione could bring herself to do nothing as she saw the absolute confidence in his features. His hands went up to her hair and he pushed a curl behind her ear. His hands caressed her unruly tresses, cherishing the soft waves as they tumbled loosely in his coarse hands.  
  
She waited, immobile. Holding his breath Draco moved his hands to encircle her face. He inched towards hers seductively. Silky lips found hers as electricity surged through the communal connection. Draco coaxed her lips apart with a skim of his tongue across her bottom lip. He explored her mouth, tongues dancing playfully. Reluctantly he severed the connection.  
  
"See, that was nice, wasn't it?" Draco whispered. "Yes" Hermione replied, then tilted her face up to his, telling him to resume. "No, you've had enough of my attentions for the night." Draco teased. "Any more and we shall not be friends in the morning."  
  
Hermione giggled, "Friends now, are we?" Draco smirked, "What, would you prefer lovers? Then keep playing with me and see just how drastically we can alter our relationship in one night."  
  
"Adieu." He lingered only a moment before retiring to his room for the night. Comforted by sensual dreams of continuing the encounter. Hermione also returned to her room. For the first time in many nights, she did not have a nightmare. The scent of Draco clung to her and carried her on wings of ecstasy thru the night. 


	8. Miscommunications And Their Conclusions

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Chapter 8: Miscommunications And Their Conclusions  
  
She felt magnificent. The only thoughts in her head focused around a certain blonde haired, silver-eyed beauty. She smiled just picturing him. He was an admirably conceited, endearingly offensive, loveably obnoxious, undeniably sexy, delightfully evil boy.  
  
Resolving how to tell Harry and Ron was not as entertaining a thought as her reminiscing, so she spent the better part of the afternoon floating in her memories. She ultimately decided that if she were to withhold the new status change of Draco from Harry and Ron, they might hold a grudge or resent him even more for the fact.  
  
She definitely had to break it to them cautiously. Preferably when they were in a respectable mood. Honesty was the best choice as she anticipated their reaction. "You snogged Malfoy? On purpose? And you liked it? She's ill, Mate. Take her to the nurse." Ron would fret with concern over her grasp on reality. They really acted as mother hens when it came to her. They were occasionally a little too overprotective.  
  
But all said and done she knew that they would eventually accept her decision. They had to, since they were her best friends. If anyone should understand it should be them.  
  
The reality of the telling was not as pleasant as she had hoped. Hermione had set the mood, inviting them to an evening in the Head common room. To persuade them she had indicated that she had purchased a contemporary chessboard.  
  
This board allowed you to challenge the board itself to a game. It was only for the most experienced of players. She beamed to herself. She knew her friends would jump at the opportunity for a new standard of competitive game. After several games and much laughing she nervously began to recount the events.  
  
Hermione was struggling to maintain her steady breathing as her stomach did flips. "Harry, Ron, I want to talk to you. I have a favor to ask." Both boys looked up as if on cue. "What Hermy? You know you can ask us anything." Ron said. At the mention of her shortened name she cringed. Ron had affectionately nicknamed her when they had dated and, though she had informed him on numerous occasions how much she despised the term, the bloody fool kept using it.  
  
"Ron, please, you know how much it bothers me." She sighed. " I want to ask you to keep an open mind as I relate the past couple of days." She hurriedly told them of the encounters, leaving out certain things of course. Even best friends don't need to know all the dirty details. She informed them of the innocent beginnings and finally the sultry end leaving off with the kiss.  
  
"It was just one kiss. What makes you think he even likes you?" Ron burst out. The anger in his eyes distressed Hermione. "Remember, you promised to..." she began, only to be cut off. "He has no respect. Who does he think he is, using you like that?" Harry threw in. They screamed their outrage at her, as she quietly thought up her next move. "After you kindly asked him to please not treat you so disrespectfully, he goes on a self- righteous rampage talking about lovers.... Disgusting!"  
  
"Absolutely needs his arse kicked." Harry agreed. "...Needs to learn how to treat a woman..." Ron's voice continued as Harry stopped ranting for a breath.  
  
The two carried on like this for an hour, always completing each other's sentences with some new outburst. They were so involved in their heated, yet one-sided, debate that they forgot Hermione was in the room.  
  
She looked back and forth between her friends, unsure what to say next. They had taken everything she had told them out of context, twisting the beauty of the situation into something wicked and ugly.  
  
Finally she had enough. "You two are a fine pair to talk. Here I asked you to keep an open mind and you don't even let me finish the story before ripping Draco's motives apart. Stop psychoanalyzing him for one moment and entertain the notion that maybe he has actually changed." "Pfahh. Doubt it" was the only retort from a distressed and doubtful Harry.  
  
Tears filled her eyes and she continued. "Is it really so hard to believe that Draco could like me. Or love me for that matter? Am I so unworthy of someone that he could only be out to destroy my heart?" She sobbed. They sat there, stunned into silence as they watched her race out of the room, her face in her hands.  
  
"Oh my god, Harry. Hermione's hit the nail on the head, and she doesn't even realize it. I bet you 20 galleons that is exactly what Draco is planning. He's going to use her and break her heart." Ron's face was grave as his comment sunk in.  
  
"We have to do something about this. We can't just let her heart be ripped out and crushed by the heartless barbarian. She needs us to protect her, even if she doesn't realize it yet." Ron 's voice revealed his concern.  
  
"What can we do?" Harry asked his friend. "We have to find a way to prove to her that Malfoy will only hurt her. As tough as it is, we have to exposed his malicious scheme." Ron replied. " We can't talk freely here. Let's go."  
  
He and Harry returned to the Gryffindor rooms, heads together, plotting Draco's unveiling. Ideas flowed rapidly through their minds. Neither contemplated the fact that Hermione could be crushed by this encounter. They thought that this was the ultimate alternative. It was their final opportunity to expose Draco's nefarious ways. 


	9. Plans Formed On Sinister Days

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Chapter 9: Plans Formed On Sinister Days  
  
Sleep eluded Harry, as he lay awake in his room the entire night. He contemplated the things Hermione had revealed to them. She had been nervous; he had noticed that she had been shaking. She had full right to be, after all, they had shut her down so fast that the tears in her eyes were left unshed. She had come to them, begged them to understand and they had refused her rudely. Harry was enveloped in his shame. He decided that he had to give Draco a chance to prove his intentions. He and Ron would talk to Malfoy men to man.  
  
Deep in his heart, Harry hoped that Ron was wrong. He would hate to have to commit murder, even if it was a Malfoy. For Hermione he had no doubt that he could. Should Draco hurt her, Harry would not hesitate to make that day his last on this earth. He silently vowed to discover the truth.  
  
By the mornings first rays Harry had been up and dressed for hours. His face was full of sincerity as he grudgingly headed to Hermione's room to apologize.  
  
He sat in the hallway, not knowing her password to obtain entrance. He went over the speech he had prepared in his reverent hours of self- loathing. "Hermione, I want to apologize for the way I acted last night. You know I love you like the sister I never had. I only want what is best for you. I need to know for myself that everything is going to be ok. If this is all a lie....." No, Harry thought. That would never do.  
  
"Hermione, I am sorry that I jumped to conclusions and hurt your feelings yesterday. I only worried about your relationship. You are very young and..." No. He sounded too much like a father figure. Harry had to discuss this delicate situation as her friend, not her superior. Besides, what experience did he have with relationships?  
  
Harry didn't have any more time to ponder what to say before Hermione's door opened and Draco burst out. Upon seeing Harry camped out in front of his door he immediately began to scowl.  
  
"Potty, what are you doing here? Hermione isn't in her room". His voice dripped a chill over Harry's head. Harry only had a moment to wonder how Draco would know that Hermione was not in her bedroom before more contemptuous words filled his mind.  
  
"She was upset and spent the night in that damned library. She's always running off to hide there when she is distraught. Most likely because of something you and your idiot friend did to her. No doubt that today she can thank you two morons for an intense backache spent from a night surrounded by moldy books." Draco continued.  
  
"If I wasn't such a gentleman, I'd hex you both into oblivion, but as it is, I insist that you remove your self from my doorstep where you lay cluttering it like discarded waste."  
  
Draco viciously kicked at Harry as he walked by. "Oh, and Potty, take a bath, you reek." He threw this comment at Harry over his shoulder. " I can practically feel the bile rise in my mouth at the smell you are casting down my hall." Draco sauntered off, to god knows where, leaving Harry to quake in his rage.  
  
A furious Harry ran smack into Ron as he tried to turn the corner. "Oomph. Watch where your bloody going" Harry's anger threatened to boil over.  
  
" Sorry, mate didn't see you there" Ron said. "Harry, you alright?" Harry guiltily stammered, "Sorry Ron, Didn't know it was you. Just had a run-in with Malfoy in the hall and he's got me all worked up is all. No hard feelings?"  
  
" None." Ron replied with a smile. He took in Harry's weary eyes, lined by dark circles. "Feeling alright?" At Harry's nod he scanned the empty hallway. "What were you doing here?" he inquired.  
  
Harry looked his friend in the eye. " I needed to apologize to Hermione. I couldn't sleep a wink last night. I kept seeing that expectant look in her eyes, and how we killed it."  
  
Harry sighed his torture. " I felt terrible for what we did. I wanted to see if I could have another go at this whole 'understanding' thing, but running into Draco shows me that maybe that wasn't the best plan of action. He hasn't changed towards us one bit."  
  
Harry didn't understand how they could be expected to accept Draco into their lives with open arms, and have him remain as insolent and cruel as always. It just didn't seem fair.  
  
"What are you doing here Ron? This would be the first time you have ever missed breakfast." Harry teased.  
  
Ron's face was like a deer in the headlights. He looked guiltily at the floor. "Well, ya see" He faltered. " Harry, I was also on my way to apologize. I wanted Hermione to know how I felt. I was in shock, is all. I really love her. I just wanted to tell her that she could always turn to me."  
  
This admission made Harry pause. Ron was never this open about his feelings for Hermione. Harry considered how crushed his friend had been when Hermione had told him that they were better as friends. He had agreed that the relationship was unrealistic, and that in the end it would destroy their friendship.  
  
Harry alone had heard the sobs coming from Ron's secluded bed late at night. He knew deep inside that Ron's broken hopes and crushed dreams had been pushed behind a false smile that night.  
  
He could only assume how deeply Ron suffered now that Hermione had formed a relationship with his adversary. It was a plausible excuse to how he reacted last night.  
  
Harry was further shamed that he did not have the similar comfort of any justification. He had been swept up, as Ron had, in his own feelings. He was scared for Hermione, of course.  
  
But was there some other reason hiding in his heart. Did he truly want Hermione to be all alone? Harry wondered if his loneliness had turned him bitter, unable to share in her happiness.  
  
Ron's speaking brought him out of his self-absorption. "You said that your run in with Draco was less than friendly. What happened?" Harry related the encounter to Ron. When he was finished Ron's eyes lit up with a wicked glimmer.  
  
"Harry, what would you think if I told you that we could find out Draco's actual feelings, while at the same time getting revenge, without Hermione ever being the wiser?" Ron's smile was genuine.  
  
" As long as Hermione doesn't get hurt in the act, I suppose that there is no harm in it." Harry pondered. "What do you have planned?"  
  
Ron broke out in gleeful snorts. "Do you suppose that the Slytherins would be all too pleased to find out that their comrade has been snogging a Gryffindor?" He could barely hide his amusement. "I am thinking about one Slytherin in particular that would be irked beyond measure." He doubled over with hysterics.  
  
Harry watched Ron's merriment with silent contemplation. Apparently his friend was finalizing all the details in his mind. Harry mused that if he ever got on Ron's bad side he would refuse to eat or drink anything in his presence, for fear of poisoning.  
  
Ron's practical jokes were hilarious and enjoyed by all (except for the intended recipient), but he did have a tendency to go to the extreme. A relative hereditary gene, passed on to him from George and Fred. Right now all his cruel intentions were focused on Draco, which made Harry anticipate learning the missing information of the plan.  
  
As thunder clapped loudly outside the window, Harry jumped. Ron's face was sinister in the flickering lightening of the sudden storm. Seeing his friend's expression, Harry was almost forced to utter "Poor Draco." Nothing but the worst could come from this. 


	10. The Library Escapade

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Chapter 10: The Library Escapade  
  
Draco strutted down to the library, where Hermione had spent her night. She was still dwelling on her earlier disappointment over how her friends had reacted.  
  
She knew that it was only a matter of time until they noticed how happy Draco made her and accepted it. But what exactly was "it"? She couldn't classify their relationship.  
  
She really liked him. His presence made her whimper in response to those full, pouting lips, silky blonde locks that seemed to shine like the sun itself had been captured in every strand.  
  
His intense silver eyes mirrored all his sexy thoughts, making her feel dirty, and she knew that no amount of bathing could cleanse her mind. Unless it was another with him...  
  
Oh, can't forget that smile, showing off his perfect white teeth. When directed at her, she just melted into the lush carpets, never to return. She let the fantasy fill her mind.  
  
He was leaning over her desk in the library, palms planted firmly in place. His sensual lips closed the distance. She moistened hers with the tip of her tongue. She anticipated the uniting and the pleasure it would release. She stifled a moan.  
  
She slowly let her eyes drift open, then blinked hard twice more. She had to be dreaming. Draco was leaning over her desk, a mirror image of her fantasy. She gasped as slightly parted lips closed the gap between them. His tongue probed deep in her mouth, taking in her sweet taste.  
  
Her fingers twined into the hair at the back of his neck. She pulled him harder into her. Still kissing him she begged not to be released. It was a blessing that she was sitting, she couldn't stand even if Neville had set fire to her chair. "Now I know how frustrating it is to have the immobulous curse placed on you."  
  
Draco finally ceased his assault on Hermione's senses long enough to laugh at her comment. He rounded the table separating them and threw himself into the chair parallel to hers.  
  
Quiet descended on the pair as Hermione lowered her eyes back to the starched pages of the book on Rival Gnome Clans. Draco hummed quietly to himself for a moment before he realized that HE WAS JUST BLOODY HUMMING! Malfoys do not hum. Maybe he should move before the little bookworm further dumbfounds him into believing he's a 10 year old girl. Or worse yet, Harry Pott-head.  
  
He pushed himself back from the table and attempted his ascend but was brought roughly down again. Hermione threw her left leg over the top of Draco's knees, preventing him from rising. He surveyed her leg as if it was a slimy tentacle of the giant squid.  
  
After a few moments his eyes went back to their normal shuttered expression. Steel walls came up. Draco was slightly amused that the girl had made the next move. Though he enjoyed control, she was still new at this and didn't yet have a preference.  
  
He raised one glorious eyebrow in her direction in question to her expectations. He gently let his fingertips play with the end of her skirt, falling just below her knee.  
  
The skin there was velvety and fair. He longed to kiss the dips and lick at the contours. He wondered if her knees were sensitive to his touch. Lightly he caressed her at the edge of her hem. Gradually he slipped the fabric higher.  
  
He rolled the tips of his fingers along the flesh of her thigh. He let them linger for a moment, making sure there was no protest. He traced lazy circles on the inside of her legs, always moving deeper and deeper into the skirt and higher up her satiny limb.  
  
She knew that the sensations were becoming focused, more intense as his circles pressed on towards her core. Closer, and closer his hands roamed. She shook with the pleasure rolling where his touch had just been.  
  
His fingers eventually collided with the soft fabric of her panties, made moist from his lavish attentions. He stroked her through the cotton. He grew uncontrollably hard just thinking that her body was ready, even if her mind was not. The thought crushed him.  
  
He longed to play no more. He imagined himself tearing away the barriers of clothing and plunging deep into her. He needed to satisfy her as much as he himself needed to reach ecstasy in her arms.  
  
He knew she was a virgin and that when she consented; he would be forced to shatter her maidenhead with the greatest care. Her first time must be done with self-control and patience.  
  
Only after the initial first joining could he push her body to its limits. He longed for that, to ride her hard and fast. Bending her body into outrageous positions, he would teach her to prolong their pleasure. He would enjoy the teaching more than anything.  
  
He would show her how to satisfy him in numerous ways, all the while learning from her body's reactions how to bring her to the perfect climax. He shivered with anticipation, hoping he could restrain a little while longer. He needed her mind to inform her that she was willing to move to the next level. Draco dropped back to earth with a thud. Hermione was moaning, loudly. Oh my god, she'll alert the entire library to our actions. Reluctantly he slipped his hand from under her skirts. Once the caresses ceased Hermione opened her eyes. She was flushed and practically dripping sweat on the wooden chair. She was parched and panting at her erotic responses to a simple touch.  
  
Draco's steady hands were going to become a very vivid memory, a secret to torment her through the day. She could picture the firm fingers to bring on ripples of sensation that settled in a pool of juices in her already drenched panties.  
  
Draco rose shamelessly after replacing her leg next to the other, feet firmly on the floor, knees once again locked. His pants bulged with his urgency. Hermione's eyes saw the situation and she giggled behind her hand.  
  
Draco couldn't restrain himself as he pulled her to her feet and turned her around. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her firmly in place.  
  
As he ground his cock roughly into her back end he licked her earlobe and whispered "That is gonna cost you. Have your laugh, 'cause the price is high." He licked the tender lobe once more, took a fierce bite, and growled.  
  
Draco didn't have any time before the beginning of his classes so he decided to skip his first two and release some built up tension. He locked himself in his chambers and discarded his clothing. His fevered mind was pumping blood from his brain, slowly transferring it south.  
  
His hand found the enormous organ in the dark. Conjuring up the image and sensations of the library escapade his hand began to slowly tighten with the pumping. The rhythm quickened.  
  
His heart beat wildly in his chest and he gasped. He shortened his strokes as he envisioned Hermione lying face down on his bed as he pushed into her tight orifice.  
  
The numerous sexual positions he had experienced flashed past, always with Hermione substituting the nameless partner. He moaned out his climax into the pillow, cautious not to alert anyone passing by in the hallway. (He had no idea if he could be heard through the walls.)  
  
Covered in sticky mess his body lay dormant. He was thoroughly depleted of all energy. He would shower again when he woke. In the mean time, he was content to rest and enjoy this. 


	11. The Nominees For Cutest Couple

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* * *

  
Chapter 11: The Nominees For Cutest Couple  
  
Hermione was nauseas with concern as she sprinted to the empty classroom where she was to meet with Draco for patrol duty. She nervously chewed her nails through the day.  
  
Her mind was greatly troubled when Draco had not bothered to make an appearance for Wand Craft class. She desperately hoped that she had not been the cause.  
  
She wondered if their encounter in the library that morning had somehow upset him. Maybe she had done something wrong. She couldn't tell if she was a clumsy kisser, only having one prior experience. What if he hadn't enjoyed it?  
  
She vowed to visit the library later to study the proper way to court someone. It would have to be very late at night, to make sure that no one would discover her as she devoured all the school's information on mating rituals. She could only hope that they had extensive material on the subject.  
  
How could she be so dense, surely in her innocence she must have made grievous errors in their earlier embraces? No wonder he wouldn't face her. She halted in the middle of the hall feeling the hot sting of tears form behind her honey colored eyes.  
  
Willing herself not to blubber like Hagrid after the condemnation of Buckbeak, she tapped into her reserves, summoning strength, and pushed open the classroom doors.  
  
Draco was sitting enticingly on the corner of the professor's desk. His legs were spread as they hung carelessly over the edge. In his fingers he twirled a quill delicately. When lost in thought, his face took on a serene and endearing quality. Not a hint remained of the odious little creep that the "Golden Trio" had so appropriately named him.  
  
Draco glanced up and his lips pulled back into a smile that could charm a basilisk. "Hello Beautiful" he said cordially. "Would you care to join me for a walk?" He said as he offered her his outstretched arm.  
  
"So you're not mad at me?" Hermione asked. Draco's face darkened with his confusion. "What are you talking about, girl?" Hermione stuttered, "Well, I just thought.. that is.. you were disappointed in me....umm... my lack of kissing ...abilities...and all.. since you seem to be ...well, I'm not saying that your..Oh dear.. practiced...oh, that sounds so mean. I meant ...ummm...I don't know how to.. well.. You know what I mean?"  
  
Draco smirked thru Hermione's little speech, only causing her voice to stammer more often. Her face was a color to make any apple jealous. "Hermione, though the thought of an experienced woman is preferred with many of my friends, I personally enjoy the more unspoiled aspects that you have to offer."  
  
Hermione could have jumped into his arms, and kissed him senseless, his compliment was so sincere. It shattered her remaining insecurities. She felt like the luckiest woman on the planet.  
  
"Now, can you please shut up and start patrolling, we should be on the other side of the school by now. If we get in trouble your going to have to take the blame." Draco frowned at her playfully.  
  
They walked slowly, enjoying the remainder of the afternoon. Golden light filtered in through the open windows as the sun set in a glorious haze of fiery red and royal purple.  
  
The pair crossed into the lower level of the school as they searched the potions rooms and storage closets for any students foolish enough to be making out in the dimly lit corners.  
  
Instead of a couple 'getting close' in the privacy, Draco and Hermione ran into an unlikely group of people. Four Slytherins were stalking around, their malicious cackles bouncing off the stonewalls, as if they belonged out of class.  
  
"Well boys, what have we here? It appears the rumors are true." A tall Slytherin nodded in the direction of the duo. "The nominees for cutest couple this year go to.... Draco and the mudblood bitch." Laughter spread through the group like cancer. The crowd surrounded the two as Draco stepped in front of Hermione, sheltering her from the cruelty of the words already spoken.  
  
"Blaise, you must have balls of iron to speak so freely, when you also come from mixed backgrounds. Before you speak so rashly, I'd examine your own bloodline. Only when your heritage is free of all blemishes, can you judge others. " Draco's voice was pure ice. The clique looked back and forth from Draco, a slim 5 foot 9 athlete, to Blaise's 6-foot heavier build.  
  
Blaise was the larger of the two and the favorite of the crowd, but Draco had uncontrollable hate pumping where blood once was. This aspect was taken into consideration as the two men stood, chest-to-chest, challenging each other to make the first move. Never the house to miss a money-making opportunity, the remaining Slytherins had started whispering bets.  
  
"You know Draco, I think I am beginning to see the attraction. She may be a frigid bitch on the outside but I bet she's wild in bed. Grrrrrr..." Blaise reached out his wand to lift the end of Hermione's skirt. She shrieked and Draco pushed her further behind his protective form, as the four hooted their delight.  
  
With all the authority she could muster Hermione shouted over Draco's shoulder. "You know you all should not be out of class without a teacher's written permission. I will deduct points, I'll tell Professor Snape. You are going to all get detention...unless you leave immediately and return to class." Hermione struggled to keep her voice steady.  
  
The threat was shrugged off as an empty promise. Even Draco turned and looked at her absurdly, eyes saying, "That's all you got, Miss Know-it-all. Your secret weapon is to tell them they will get detention? These people founded capital punishment and you wanna tango with a simple 'I'll tell on you'?"  
  
Fists flew a second later. The Slytherins took advantage of Draco's face being turned to attack him cowardly. The blow landed hard on his jaw. Draco's body was flying through the air, to come crashing down at Hermione's feet. He bit his tongue in the process and blood filled from his mouth.  
  
Draco spit out the salty liquid as he stood again. Defiantly he searched every sneering profile in the crowd. He lingered on one for a moment as he watched Blaise ball his fist for another assault. The cheeky blonde took a step closer and spit red into his housemate's face.  
  
This tactic succeeded in further provoking the Slytherins. As a team they simultaneously attacked. Four against one was bad odds, even for Draco. The only advantage he had was that he was the smallest in the crowd, and fastest.  
  
Trying to dodge and strike, his narrow escapes finally came to a shattering end. An uppercut landed square on him. Once on the ground, the kicks shattered ribs and heels rained down on his huddled form.  
  
He was a bloody heap on the floor when they paused to admire their handiwork. Seizing the moment, Draco staggered back to his feet. The tornado of green circled again, hesitating momentarily to marvel at the tenacious boy's audacity and determination to get himself killed.  
  
"He wants more," Blaise sneered. "Please, accept his invitation." At his command the other boys advanced on Draco, who had the lack of good sense to laugh at them.  
  
The prospect that Draco would walk away from the encounter was bleak, were Hermione a betting girl she would have cast her dice with the Slytherins. Draco could have held his own with two or even three of them, but it was unlikely he'd see tomorrow, should he pit his wits against all four at once.  
  
She refused to stand idly by as the Slytherin scum tore her love limb from limb. Without sparing a breath, she cast a 'Petrificus Totalus' curse at the gathering. She squinted at the after effect. All the boys were frozen in place, limbs entwined in the brawl.  
  
Hermione took in the five frozen forms, separated Draco from the others, and grasped a sturdy handful of the nearest Slytherin's hair.  
  
She dragged the stiff carcass, arms aching with her burden, back and forth three times. She envisioned the image of a prison cell. Abruptly a door materialized. When Hermione searched inside the Room of Requirement she saw that it had no inside handle.  
  
Once again, the room had fulfilled her every desire. She deposited the hexed body into the room and turned back down the hall to gather the others. She repeated this until she had locked up all the Slytherins but Draco. Slamming the door, she un-hexed them and watched the only means of escape disappear into the walls, imprisoning them inside.  
  
Her next task was to release Draco from the spell. She felt remorse that she had been obligated to stun him also but she had no other option in order to prevent the slaughter.  
  
She picked up her wand and revived him. It was a few moments before Draco became focused again. He immediately smiled as he searched her face. "What took you so long?" He accused. "Some hero you are, I would have appreciated the help BEFORE I got all bloodied up." He grumbled as his fingers dabbed at the oozing blood on his split lip.  
  
"Honestly Hermione, if you had the power in you all along, why did you wait for that precise moment? And why on earth did you feel required to stun ME? If you were my knight in shinning armor I have no doubt that you would have slain the maiden and rescued the dragon."  
  
She knew that deep inside he was grateful. "Never having the experience of being indebted to someone, I will take that as your admission of thanks." Hermione beamed in the face of a very sulky Draco.  
  
"I'm just mad because you didn't let me finish the fight. You made it look like I need my girlfriend to protect me, WHICH I DON'T, Thank you very much Miss Thing, but the next time, I'll win my battles alone."  
  
Hermione only heard up until the word 'girlfriend'. She was in a daze, glowing, to be sure. "Girlfriend?" She inquired. "Don't push your luck, Grainger. Or I just might change m' mind." The chiseled back of Draco was a welcome a view as Hermione soared into bliss. 


	12. Conversations With An Old Fool

Disclaimer: I own nothing...but my sick and twisted imagination  
  
Time Bomb: Sorry to hear about your problem. I am grinning like a fool cuz of your review. I appreciate when ya'll say that the characters are like J.K's. She is my inspiration 'naturally'. Duh. I still don't possess the brilliance to create much mystery. But I'm willing 2 give it a go.  
  
DHL: I like to keep myself guessing..Who's the hero in this story? Every chapter has yet to unfold in my head. Keep reading.  
  
Svetlaella: No worries...I still love you. We are all exhausted at least once a day.  
  
Beth: You are too kind. I look forward to your reviews.  
  
KivaidensGirl: One of the most blushingly glorious reviews yet. I am spoiled. It's reviews like yours that make me want to spit out 2 more chapters by noon. Thank you. "Flowery words followed her thru the halls"  
  
Ghypscee: I would love to fill you in, but I don't know yet myself where I'll take it. So let's just journey together, shall we?  
  
Crazy noodle: I want the readers to get a certain apathy for Hermione before I use their feelings against them. LOL. I am evil. I want to say for the record that Hermione is not perfect, she is almost my double. I carry the same traits, so I can grasp them and pull out her flaws better than the readers. Example: She's damn naive, almost to the point of stupidity. Shy but brave in the face of danger, sometimes also a flaw, believe me...Always trying to please, even at her own expense. (Harry and Ron's blow up was the cost of her faith in friendship) She's the one who always sets others up for the witty phrases, but never has one herself. She doesn't seem to know half as much as she would like. A life surrounded by more books than friends. And I take it as an accomplishment that you think that I am 'too perfect'. Thanks.  
  
Anastasia: Thanks for another sweet review.  
  
Chapter 12: Conversations With An Old Fool  
  
Hermione was smiling secretively to herself as she raced to the Headmaster's rooms after patrolling. She noticed that after she had resolved the Slytherin confrontation that Draco had become mysteriously quiet. He was probably just stung that she managed everything without his assistance. She chuckled, thinking how his ego could use a good smashing. She marveled that it would be her privilege to do it. With glowing pride she repeated the Head Girl's passcode to allow entrance and climbed the steps.  
  
Dumbledore was snoozing in a wing-backed armchair by the enormous telescope. She contemplated waking him, hesitated, and then sighed "what the hell". Clearing her throat loudly she waited impatiently for the wizard's undivided attention. He slowly woke and drowsily smiled. Hermione's foot tapped on the hard wood balcony.  
  
"Headmaster, I'm sorry to disturb you but I really need to talk to someone." "What bothers you, child?" Dumbledore inquired as he conjured another chair. He considerately asked her to relax. "You see, I have a 'friend', and she is serious about a boy. I am concerned because he is very different from her. They don't enjoy similar activities {well not most} and they never got along, until a few weeks ago. All of a sudden she can't get him out of her head. She has a constant need to be near him. It really is like a whirlwind romance."  
  
Hermione paused to entertain the thought that her situation resembled the heroine in Romeo and Juliet. Dumbledore disguised the smirk that appeared while he watched Hermione's eyes become glazed and dreamy. He was not a fool in the least; he understood perfectly that this conversation was regarding Hermione's newfound attraction to a pale Slytherin.  
  
"Well, I believe that your friend may have matured while you were not looking." Dumbledore patiently replied. " If your friend has found that her perspectives have become endearing, as of late, towards this young man, that is a perfectly normal attribute of adolescence."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, but that is not my friend's problem." "You see, she is falling in love with him and is pretty sure that he is fond of her." At this comment Hermione reddened. "Well, he has never really even said so, actually, but her woman's intuition works very well, she's really remarkable. Borders on some sort of second sight."  
  
Hermione realized that she had just been bragging about herself and almost given away that she was this non-existent 'friend'. Trelawney eat my socks, she thought. The horrid woman was dreadfully incorrect about everything.  
  
Dumbledore took Hermione's silent conversation to mean that she was now expecting some comments. "Ms. Granger, sometimes circumstances conspire against us. Your friend must surely understand that when a romance is blossoming, sometimes words fail to describe the catacombs of our hearts. I don't doubt that if the relationship has been founded on trust and communication, with time she will become aware of her companions emotions."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, sir, no disrespect meant, but in our time starved society, your attentiveness and listening skills seem to have fallen wayside." Hermione shifted in her seat to observe his profile.  
  
" The reason for my appearance in your office is because my friend and her boyfriend both belong to separate groups. Neither of the groups mingles with the other; they take their rivalry to an extreme. She wants to be a part of his life but doesn't know how to achieve that when his friends won't accept her and vice versa." Exasperation seeped out her pores.  
  
"My dear, the power of love is not ruled by what others think. Those who condemn the relationship must, in time, make their own peace. Tender hearts are unpredictable, to say the least. Nothing is of concern except the will of true love. If their path truly leads into the others arms, to deny it is to take a stand against the tornado." Dumbledore dragged on the pipe as a white halo circled him.  
  
Hermione stood. " Thank you. I will try to keep an unbiased opinion while I reconsider this affair of my friend. You have been a great help." Hermione's mind required a breather. She escorted herself out and tried not to feel guilty about failing to inform Dumbledore about the four Slytherins. She decided it could only improve their disposition to remain locked up until the morning. With extreme cruelty, that Draco would be proud of; she imagined the inescapable night of fighting since the Room had only produced a single twin size cot.  
  
After the last period Draco had headed down to the forbidden forest to fly off some of the suppressed anger from his fight. They had dared to attack him, the Head Boy. He had not expected his teammates to know he was even involved with Hermione.  
  
He knew that once he told them, they would not jump for joy at the prospect of his inter-house dating, but was not prepared for this. He wanted to crush their skulls into dust with his bare hands. His knuckles were white as he squeezed the broomstick tighter. He would have his retribution.  
  
Draco flew for hours, a flash of silver and cold. He knew that some of his anger was at Hermione. She had been so assertive. He didn't like it. He was supposed to be the man in this relationship; he was supposed to fight his own battles. He could hear the chants now. "Malfoy won't fight, why would he, when he can hide behind the skirts of a woman." "Watch out here comes Mr. Grainger, the coward."  
  
He was blinded by rage as he sped barely above the treetops. He kept dodging the tall timbers, tempting fate as he tried to hurtle the dangerous obstacles. It was no surprise that he did not notice the stranger in his cape peering through the edge of the forest at his prey with wicked intentions.  
  
The green-feathered dart pierced Draco's shoulder through his robes. He had barely reached the ground before the poisons flooded into his system, paralyzing him. The toxins were quickly blackening his focus as he desperately turned to face his attacker. Seconds later Draco fell limply to the dewy grass. The man in the black robes gracefully floated over to the unconscious form, and nimbly hefted it on to his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.  
  
"A simple toxin, and he passes out cold. Tisk. Tisk. Always the weak one. Why was I cursed with this disappointment for an heir?" Lucius snarled. 


	13. Second Attempt At The Prophesy

Disclaimer: I own nothing...but my sick and twisted imagination  
  
Mesmer: Thanks for another review. I only hope that Draco's ego can survive.  
  
Lessien: Sorry but until I can get over the flu I am having a time trying to even see my screen. I will update ASAP.  
  
KivaidendGirl: Your well wishing is much appreciated. Thanks.  
  
DHL: Again the enthusiasm is treasured.  
  
Silliemillie: Thanks for your encouragement on the plot twists.  
  
Time Bomb: You are too great! I don't know the words to the Christmas story, but I AM trying to liken Dumbledore to any wise men in tales I have seen. After all, JK makes him all knowing, and since I am not, I need a role model. (I think he would best fit a character Nicodemus from a movie I saw as a child called Nihm. But Santa is an awesome idea too.) "Courage of the heart is very rare, the stone glows when it's there." -Nicodemus  
  
Beth: We share a bond here. "And the plot thickens..."  
  
Crazy Noodle: I am not 11, though I can pout with the best of 'em. I try to keep my flaws open. Pride is a biggie. 'Hidden sin is open scandal in heaven'. I am from Chicago Suburbs. And if I told you exactly what I meant by my earlier comment, I am afraid that I'd give away too much.. he he he. I will attempt to hold your esteem, secure with the knowledge that you'll let me know when I fail. Hope you enjoy the chapter.  
  
Chapter 13: Second Attempt At The Prophesy  
  
Hermione paced in the Head anteroom. The gold carpets were trampled by her abuse and anxiety. The marvelous surroundings of rich tapestries went unheeded as her thoughts focused on Draco. Where in the hell was he? The note laid on the table was not very comforting. She read it for the tenth time, hands shaking in frustration.  
  
Hermione, (Draco's handwriting could only be compared to the slimy  
trail left by a blast-ended skrewt.) I need time to think about how  
to proceed in the wake of recent events. I should also confide that I  
am somewhat shamed that you would seek out Dumbledore's counsel and  
not mine. After I become composed I think that we should discuss how  
the corridor incident should not be repeated. You certainly didn't  
need to be so assertive. I was capable of control in that situation  
and you should have had more faith in my abilities. I am going for a  
fly to think. Don't wait up.  
  
Draco  
  
Her earlier pride was crestfallen under the guilt. Draco must be more upset than she originally thought. She assumed resignation on his part, and for him to move on. Maybe even praise her. Rude awakening, no parade in her honor, not even a thanks. Criticism and rejection stung.  
  
With lower lip protruding she flung herself onto the forest green couch and sobbed her misunderstandings to the throw pillows. She was clueless as to how to make amends for the situation and yet she felt that she was the one owed an apology.  
  
Stubbornness twitched at a muscle in her jaw. Her teeth were clenched as she decided: "Fine, he wants to play hard ball, I'm all about the game. If he can't accept a strong and independent woman, let him have Pansy." She meant not one word, of course, but was too devoured by self-pity to admit it.  
  
Hermione's frustrations mounted with each passing moment. She walked into Draco's room, searching for any clue to where he went. Finding none, she grabbed a miniature silver eagle statue off his mahogany dresser and hurled it towards the opposite wall. The missile never smashed into the target; instead it collided with the head of an unfortunate and very filthy house elf.  
  
She turned in time to witness the battered elf collapse to the floor. "Oh shit, I am so sorry" She exclaimed, running to the poor creature's side. "Are you going to be ok?" She lifted the tiny head and peered into the beady eyes.  
  
"You must be Miss Grainger." Tippy said, her thin hands rubbing the gash in her head. "Master Malfoy said that you'd be a fighter." A lump was protruding already. Hermione ran to the bathroom and returned with a wet towel. As she applied it to the skinny mammal's inflammation she asked, "Draco sent you?" The elf blinked slowly. "Not too bright. Surely the leader of S.P.E.W. would know that house elves cannot be owned by heirs. I am sent with a message from Master Lucius." The revolting little elf grinned toothlessly and produced a rolled parchment.  
  
"It's a ransom note?" Hermione read. "Dense." Tippy snickered. "You sure that you weren't the one hit on the noggin?" Tippy stood quickly and backed into the corner. "You must be the one to bring the ransom to the meeting, as it clearly states. The ONLY one. Do nothing foolish! If all goes right Draco will be fine. The portkey will take you there. One hour." Tippy dropped a yellow button on the floor and vanished.  
  
Hermione was washed over by despair. Lucius demanded that they exchange Draco's life for Dumbledore's pensive. How she was going to get it without Dumbledore knowing was a complete mystery. She also couldn't inform any of the friends about the ransom, or Draco's life was forfeit.  
  
She knew that a pensive was used to store your experiences and inner thoughts. It was handy if you wanted to clear your mind of an event that could be used against you, or something that needed to be kept a secret. Hermione's brain worked furiously to unravel the reason Lucius would want Dumbledore's memories.  
  
She determined that it had to do with Lord Voldemort. Of course Dumbledore must confide in it numerous secret plans and ideas for The Order. He probably has disclosed information about the three of them that even their parents didn't know. But was that all? Her ignorance was killing her. Doubts rushed through her mind.  
  
She scoffed at the fact that even if she did get the pensive, there was little chance that she was willing to hand it over to Lucius without a conflict. He was as slimy as a ... well, snake; and just as reliable. It was making a deal with the devil. Holding him to his word was likely to get her and Draco both slaughtered.  
  
Besides, she had no idea what the pensive could contain. The destruction of the wizarding world hung in the balance. The pensive could include information that would ensure the survival of even the human race.  
  
In the hands of evil, it would undeniably be used for the purpose of devastation. Was Draco's life worth it? She had to decide, and quickly.  
  
Weighing her feelings for Draco against the annihilation of life as she knew it, she raced off to the Headmasters office. She would make her decision only after she attempted to retrieve the pensive. If that succeeded, she could move on to the next level.  
  
She whispered the password and dashed up the winding stairs, knowing that once inside she'd have to think fast on her feet. Her mind went blank. She wished insincerely that she had more experience with deception. Her stomach hurled, knowing that even if she miraculously fabricated a lie, it would never be convincing enough to ensure her success.  
  
Oh, her sheer luck! Dumbledore was snoring vociferously from the same comfy chair on the mezzanine enclosure. The only difference was that a newspaper was lying neglected across his knees. She silently crept into the outer chamber. With all the stealth she possessed; she searched the nearby shelves, careful not to rouse the numerous portraits. Desperately she hunted for the bowl shaped object.  
  
At last she discovered the shiny object, slipping it carefully inside her robes. Slowly she crept, inch-by-inch, to the door, and slipped out. No one would be the wiser to her thievery. And if things went in her favor, she could have both Draco and the pensive returned unharmed by the morning. She could only pray that fate was on her side this evening. It was a furtive prayer indeed.  
  
Draco was encrusted in blood at his boyhood home. A condescending voice spilled verbal abuse in the background. "The punishment shall be severe. No doubt the ungrateful whelp shall not live through the night." The lick of a whip slashed open the flesh of his back. "A Malfoy always obeys his master." His breath caught as iodine dripped upon the new wound.  
  
Five times the cat-o-nine bit into the tender skin, each wound to be painfully sealed. With every contact a new commandment was issued. His head was cumbersome and refused to stay atop his shoulders. Sapping his strength it rolled on his neck and he blacked out. Blessed oblivion spared him the indignity of crying out as Lucius resumed the lashing.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Sorry all, but this sickness is kickin' my ass right now. I need some rest. Have a nice weekend. I promise to be back full force Monday morning. 


	14. Tormenting Draco

Disclaimer: I own nothing...but my sick and twisted imagination  
  
KivaidensGirl: Sorry, no IM here. Thanks for the encouragement. OMG! My hero! I just read your other post! Too kind.... (sniff, sniff)  
  
DHL: I am sorry, I don't have the greatest spelling skills and sometimes my spell check doesn't pick those things up. I appreciate it.  
  
Beth: I am starting to feel better thanks, I will have some new additions for you to read when you return. Have fun.  
  
Mesmer: Yes, Hate Lucius with a passion. Right!  
  
Musikchik: A new reader is always welcome.  
  
Anastasia: Whole-hearted thanks.  
  
Lizzie: Sorry to hear about your unfortunate 'lock-down'. Take care.  
  
Lily: 2 New Readers! Thank you, thank you.  
  
TimeBomb: And brainstorm I did... ha ha  
  
Lessien: Ok, but only cuz you said so.. ;}  
  
Chapter 14: Tormenting Draco  
  
Draco woke to find his father looming over him. The sheer contempt on his face made Draco believe that for a moment this was only a bad dream. He would never be so lucky. "Wake up Draco." The stern voice demanded nothing but total obedience. "Get up!"  
  
Draco's eyes flew open and he winced at the pain that was going to come. He was surprised to find that he had no scars, not even a scratch on his body. There was a slight burning deep in the muscles of his back but, all things considered, he was in good shape. He wondered if last night had all been a hallucination.  
  
In answer to his son's puzzlement Lucius drawled, "By now you have noticed the flawless condition that your beloved mother has kept you in." His voice could curdle milk. "Damn interfering woman, applying salves and healing spells, and other nonsense. Bloody waste of time. She knew that when I work I am not to be disturbed. Don't worry, she will not get involved again." At this comment Lucius smiled.  
  
Draco didn't know if he was supposed to sigh relief or run screaming. His mother had bothered to try to heal him. Why? He had no way of finding out, while trapped in his father's so called 'study'. What a gruesome place indeed. Draco had only been down here once, a very long time ago. That had been the day that he found out the extent of his father's relationship with Voldemort. He had always assumed that his father was just another follower, but on that day Lucius had received a summons while in his 'study'.  
  
The general rules were simple. #1. That you don't go against the Dark Lord. #2. You don't ask questions. #3 You respect your pureblood superiority. #4. And you don't bother him in his study. That day was an exception. Draco was told to bring the summons immediately to Lucius. So he slowly descended the stairs to the lowest and darkest room in the manor. Draco quickly knocked before he could lose his nerve. The door flew open on its rusted hinges as a furious and blood covered Lucius took in Draco's pale face and shaking hands holding out a black envelope. His features softened briefly, then he shouted. "Get out, and do not return." He slammed the door but it swung back open.  
  
Draco was a statue of fear. His eyes took in the contents of the room. A filthy bed, no sheets. Chains suspended from the ceiling. All sorts of hooks, knives, daggers, needles and suck were on a table at the end of the room. Large drains made up the floor. And the room was covered from ceiling to walls to floor with blood. Old and new. A decrepit man was suspended in the middle of the room by leather collars around his neck and wrists. His feet dangled lifelessly four inches from the floor.  
  
Lucius had returned his attentions to the man. He held lovingly in his hand a weighty chain, one that was welded to a contraption in the ceiling. This chain had a fierce hook on the free end. Lucius thrust the hook deep into the ribs of the hanging man. The body violently jerked in response. Draco realized to his horror that this man was not dead, as he had assumed.  
  
Lucius snickered and walked to a wall of levers and switches. He stared at the impaled victim and flipped a switch. There was nothing in Lucius's face as he watched the man's ribs be torn out in a gory mess. The dying man's screams chased Draco up the flight of steps as he ran.  
  
Draco knew from that moment that his father was the Dark Lord's hit man. The only one cruel enough to dish out punishment. An Assassin. Voldemort's followers were mainly spineless, sniveling worshipers, but his father was different. Always a man of action and severe brutality, he was the ideal candidate for a loyal executioner.  
  
Draco stumbled back into the present. He frowned, knowing that his mother's assistance had cost her deeply. You do not disobey the rules. He was strong enough to withstand Lucius's powerful fists but his mother was not. "I believe that you know the rules, boy." Lucius stated. Draco nodded once. "And you do know that to go against your Lord is punishable by death." Again there was another blonde nod.  
  
Draco held his breath. This is it, he thought. Finally I shall have sweet release from this life. It is a pity I shall be murdered by my own father. Please, let it be quick. Don't let me break. I won't give him that satisfaction. Draco prepared for what was inescapable.  
  
Lucius laughed. He respected the stubborn glint in his son's eyes. The same eyes that he had. His son was a picture perfect image of a younger Lucius, face tilted with a look that defied the heavens themselves. "Yes, be prepared. I enjoy the challenge. It is your fortune that our Lord gave me permission to deal with you personally. Your girlfriend shall not be so lucky. Your miserable life has been spared on my behalf, because you are my heir. Pitiful really. It is time you learned your place. You stand to inherit all that I possess. You shall be ready to take my place in the circle when I can no longer fulfill my duties. And you will step into the position eagerly. There will be no more cavorting with the three little pigs. Your new bosom buddies shall be taken care of by Lord Voldemort himself. It is his wishes and they shall not go disobeyed."  
  
Draco had no intentions of following in his father's footsteps but didn't think that this moment was the opportune one to mention that. Hermione's fate ... that was not a welcome thought. He shuddered in his clammy skin. "Draco, do pay attention. I know how difficult it is for you." Lucius snootily replied.  
  
"Even as we speak the plan is set in motion. It is only a matter of bidding our time. The ransom note has been passed on, per his instructions. And if the foolish girl cares for you an ounce, she will perform the required tasks. The prophecy is on its way." Lucius informed his son. He was enjoying the torment in Draco's face at the thought of his helplessness.  
  
Hours more of torture and gruesome experiences shall have his son fully turned. He relished the opportunity to teach Draco that his insolence will not be tolerated. He teased him with describing what ghastly suffering shall befall Hermione. Then he deliberately left the room, knowing that Draco's imagination shall unearth more torments of his girlfriend.  
  
Lucius was right, and the visions polluted Draco's weary psyche. Some were so malicious that he wished he could blind his mind's eye. Curse him for having an overactive imagination. Draco was forced to bite his already bruised tongue to keep from crying out. Tears were weak. He was a man, and men do not cry. Especially not in the face of one such as Lucius. Tears can be a motivation to someone of his masochistic taste. For that, any emotion would only provoke his father further.  
  
Draco lowered his eyes and composed himself. He had to remain oblivious. He gathered his remaining strength and wrapped himself in a blanket of cold. The tortures resumed shortly after. Draco's pain was phenomenal, his face contorted in his effort to be as silent as death.  
  
Lucius' voice thundered with his uncontrolled fury. "You can not go on like this forever, Draco. Sooner or later the pain will be too much, and you will succumb. I have been administering my justice since before you were born, and no one has withstood me. I am the epitome of patience. You will fail, boy."  
  
Draco lips quivered. He knew that his father was right. In time Draco would crack. His father would see to that. "Please don't bring Hermione here. Let her be safe. Let her be protected." Like a chant, Draco thought the words repeatedly. If only wishing could make true. He could gladly perish under the pain if she was spared. He did not know that she had already passed the point of no return. Hermione had barely touched the yellow button before the portkey pulled her into darkness. 


	15. The Rescue Mission

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Chapter 15: The Rescue Mission  
  
Hermione landed hard on her bottom. She was going to be bruised tomorrow, she thought. If she lived to see tomorrow, naturally. She was never this brash about her actions, normally she would make a pie chart, then weigh the pros and cons of each and every situation, then finally come to an educated conclusion.  
  
When had she changed so much? Along came Draco and she had thrown sensibility and sound judgment right out the window. What kind of an idiot must she be to believe that this is going to work? At least she had thought ahead and sent off letters to Harry and Ron. She had even penned one to her parents; it was waiting until morning before the owl would fly out.  
  
That letter had been the hardest to write. It was in case she did not return. It told them that she loved them and would miss them but she had to save Draco or die trying, it was the only moral thing to do. Besides, if she didn't try she could never forgive herself, knowing that maybe if she had only shown up he would be free. You never know.  
  
The letters to her dearest friends had been a basic telling of the kidnapping and ransom. Not having any time to spare, she scribbled down as neatly as possible where she was going, what she felt that she was obligated to do, and the circumstances why. Not dwelling on how she was still a little angry with them, she had slipped one under each door and sprinted back to her room to collect the button.  
  
Here she was, trudging through the thickness of midnight without her cloak. The wind drifted through her bones, creating an internal chill. The warmth and security she had always felt at Hogwarts had faded like a happy memory. The gloomy forest loomed ahead, a ghost of something once full of life and summer.  
  
Its gnarled trees creaked in the shifting winds. Instead of a ground littered with fresh pine needles, it was rocky and barren land. It desperately devoured anything of beauty. There were no bird nests in the treetops, and peaceful rustling of dried leaves, just thorn bushes that reached for her ankles in a deliberate attempt to catch her.  
  
Wicked things preyed in the forest at this hour and Hermione hoped that none were to be found hungry. She timidly stepped into the dense gathering; branches ripped at her clothes and left ugly red scratches on her face. She carried the pensive wrapped in a blanket under her arm. She had managed to remember to snatch her wand off the table and was clutching it like a lifeline. She peered through the shadows for hours, shaking uncontrollably.  
  
There were noises at all hours in a forest; even one as gloomy as this but the approaching footsteps told her that this was an intentional walk. The thing approaching wanted her to know it was coming. Maybe it was approaching in peace, why else would it warn her. Her mind was shouting in her ear "Wake up, Hermione. You are here because of a kidnapping. Voldemort and his dark magic are mixed up in this, and all of the Slytherins want you dead. This could in no ay be considered a peaceful journey! "She removed her rose colored view and ran. The figure watched as she frantically darted first one way then another, like a frightened rabbit. "Let the games begin." Said the hissing voice.  
  
Harry had been about to walk to the showers when he noticed the parchment under the door. It was in Hermione's writing. He tore off the seal and read. "Oh shit." was the pinnacle of vocabulary that he possessed under such dire circumstances. He dropped everything and headed to Ron's room.  
  
The red head was still asleep. His limp body nearly hit the ceiling as Harry jumped on him and started shaking him roughly. "Hurry, Ron, we've got to go after her. Now! She could be hurt, dead, I don't even know when she left." He barely had breathed in this run on.  
  
Ron rubbed at his eyes and batted at Harry. "Go away, it's the weekend." He mumbled with a mouth full of pillow. Harry was persistent, knowing that his friend didn't wake easily. He shook him again, nearly throwing him off the bed. "Wake up, we got to go after her. She'll be killed."  
  
Seeing that he needed more inexcusable measures he returned with a bucket of ice water. This toppled Ron out of bed in an instant, howling like a dog. Harry had not ducked in time to escape the fist that popped him in the lip as a disgruntled Ron on ice came slipping across the floor to his side.  
  
Fist still balled in Harry's face he replied "I love ya mate, but you better have a damn good excuse for that." He mumbled something about ruined my good dream and the word weekend again before Harry pointed to the letter that was protruding from under his door. He skimmed it over once then re-read it slowly to make sure that he understood it all.  
  
The letters were identical, stating that Hermione had a midnight visit in regards to a ransom. The kidnapped party was Draco, though they didn't mind too much that part. She was headed to the Widow Forest by way of portkey to meet with Lucius Malfoy to exchange the pensive for Draco. She described how it was a terminal situation but she hoped to die fighting and to take down Voldemort in the process, if she could.  
  
In a postscript Hermione asked Ron to protect her family and keep a vigil over them should she not return. In Harry's letter Hermione asked him to protect and watch over Ron for her. The simple request showed her love for the young red head wizard, even if Hermione never would.  
  
They turned to each other, Ron swallowed heavily as his face looked strained. "We never got to apologize. She hates us and now we might never see her again." His eyes spilled the tears. Harry had to remain calm, though he was on the verge of tears and panic himself.  
  
"There is no other choice, we have to go after her. We have to do something. She needs us." Harry wailed. Ron agreed instantly with his friend. They both knew that Hermione would have done anything for them if the situations were reversed. They needed to be there for her now. Petty differences aside, they sat down to create a plan of action. A rescue mission was well underway. 


	16. In The Dungeons

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Chapter 16: In the Dungeons  
  
They plotted and planned. Scheming they scribbled furious notes on spare bits of parchment. Neither boy was coming up with anything brilliant, like with their earlier accomplishments. Upon reflection, they realized that was because their previous attempts were never meticulously planned. They had always used the element of surprise and sheer spontaneity to overcome insurmountable odds.  
  
Voting for the fail-safe plan that always held true for them they pitched the unlikely propositions and prepared for the basics. Ron had come up with the suggestion that they should split up and one should assist Hermione and the other should go after Draco. At first this additional rescue mission confounded Harry.  
  
But his old friend proved chivalrous again, explaining begrudgingly that Hermione's heart belonged to Draco, and Ron's heart was utterly devoted to Hermione. Why she loved the pigment-ly challenged little spaz, no one knew. But if she had a weakness for albinos, that was ok in Ron's book. They could do no less than to be the better men in the situation and, for Hermione's sake, rescue her true love.  
  
Besides, she probably wouldn't return to Hogwarts without the insufferable brat. That was the reason she was there in the first place. Shrugging, Harry agreed. Hermione was as stubborn as a mule. If they didn't at least attempt to rescue the detestable oddball, she would insist she return until they were positive there was no hope.  
  
The impulsiveness of their situation has a glimmer of hope that it could actually succeed. All the years the three had been together, they had faced Voldemort on numerous occasions and pulled through by the skin on their backs. May their good fortune continue with them, they hoped, because in a few hours they would be once again facing their tremendous foe.  
  
Ron flipped the coin artfully in the air, and proclaimed disappointedly that Harry would be the privileged one to assist Hermione and that he had to be Draco's reluctant hero. To say that Ron was less that enthused was the understatement of the year.  
  
They kept the plans down to the basics. Very simple was the way to go. Surely it would be complicated enough without coordinating watches and such melodramatic portrayals. Last year in their secretive D.A. meetings they had mastered illegally how to apparate. Though their skills weren't quite perfected, they were left no other choice for the urgency of the quest. They would both apparate by the gates to Malfoy Manor, or as close as they could get. Given that there were probably more dark charms and warding spells than at Hogwarts. It would be equivalent of breaking into Gringotts.  
  
Ron would search stealthily around inside the manor and adjoining grounds for Malfoy and Harry would go to the neighboring woods and begin his quest for Hermione. She had, in her fleeting wisdom, told him that in accordance with the ransom note she was to rendezvous with Lucius outside his formidable home in Widow Forest. They assumed that Draco must be imprisoned close by. It was a long shot but it was their only option.  
  
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Hermione was gagging in her sleep. She found that she couldn't turn over. The forest jumped to life in her mind. There was supposed to have been a meeting. To exchange ransom for Draco and yet, no one had been there. Cautiously she has searched the clearing, dread filling her mind that this was a trap. She refused to listen. Why hadn't she acknowledged the little voice in the pit of her stomach that said, "Turn back now"? Suddenly, there was a noise close by.  
  
She had been running, racing for her life in the dark. She remembered that she stumbled clumsily into a rock. No, it wasn't a rock but a chest. Hands clutched roughly at her tangled hair and laughter, such familiar laughter, found her. She was no longer in that forest, she could tell immediately. She had been transported somewhere indoor. There were cold slabs under her, and she could feel a draft emanating from them.  
  
The horror at her discovery was unbearable. "No, not here. Anywhere but in this place. Please God. NO!" Terror and the knowledge that this time it was not the dream consumed Hermione's fragile mind. The familiar dungeons loomed ahead. Same repulsive stone walls, same bound corpse neighboring her. Likewise was the dooming hallway. Her worst fears were realized. Never had she entertained the thought that her nightmares would come into reality.  
  
Premonition was her enemy at this moment. She wished that she didn't already know what would happen, but the beckoning sounds of a mocking voice became comprehensible as it approached. He rounded the corner with ease. The nauseating conversations played out in her head. Her stomach churned as she desperately tried to focus.  
  
"Don't fret, Draco will survive. We have plans for that young man. His potential is uncharted. Lucius is seeing to his punishment in the adjoining room. There was never any question of that. He will eventually forget you, through torture, and join me. But that doesn't concern you. Now, the reason you are here, my foolish one, is to ensure that your brave friends come rushing into my waiting arms." The voice was unearthly. The vile thoughts permeated the room. The stench was overpowering.  
  
"Shortly I shall have all that I require to secure my victory. Dumbledore's pensive can't hold its mysteries forever." Shock registered at this last comment. Hermione had never tried to peer inside and decipher what was so important. Her survival may have depended on it and she hadn't bothered to look. Now Voldemort had his ultimate weapon.  
  
"I need only unlock it with the correct spell and unleash all the mystery of the prophecy. Dumbledore was a fool to believe that he alone could know the outcome of this war. Soon I shall discover the secret I need to bring about the destruction of Harry Potter, and then the world shall be mine!"  
  
She was so disappointed. She had been the one to relinquish her friends to the enemy. Through her, Voldemort would win. He would defeat them using the wisdom imparted in the pensive, to which she could only guess. The final note: It was all her fault. Her friends, having the best intentions would likely come to her rescue, and she would deliver them into hell. At the feet of the devil himself, Hermione's anguish spilled from her.  
  
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Draco's hearing attuned instantly to Hermione's muffled wailing next door. He had never thought a human possible of creating such heart wrenching sounds. The sheer agony and despair twisted at his heart. "Dear God, what are they doing to her?" He was torn in two as he desperately tried to free himself. The bonds were too tight. They fitted perfectly to him, as if designed specifically for that purpose, his bondage.  
  
The only comfort being that for the moment she was still alive. If his father had his way, she would be for a very long time. He loved to prolong the experiences. He would drain the victim of all their fears, and use it against them. He enjoyed the ritualistic taunting. Family members, friends, and anyone who had ever meant something to that person were in for a really bad week.  
  
The door slammed and Lucius was staring at his son's profile turned to gaze at the wall separating him and his mudblood girlfriend. "So, you've noticed that we have company. Well, shall we invite them over? He let the whip fly as Draco hurled himself against the chains that restrained him. "I am sure that you muggle born girlfriend should reap the benefit of a good whipping. I have been told it is proper reinforcement for a horse." Lucius sneered vilely.  
  
"Touch her and I'll kill you." Draco's voice was so cruel that Lucius was shaken to the core. He almost sounded like, well, him. Far colder were his eyes, the flecks of steel burned as if lava. The sincerity in Draco's voice showed that this was not an empty threat, but a justified promise. "Father, do not doubt the courage of my convictions; it may well be your downfall." 


	17. The Great Escape

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A/N: Hope this chapter doesn't boggle your mind too much, I was slightly out of it and dwelling in my misery. Let me know if it needs clarification. Enjoy. *Tosses a few insanity peppers into a boiling cauldron*  
  
Chapter 17: The Great Escape  
  
The loud pop signified that Harry and Ron had successfully apparated outside the forlorn Malfoy Manor. The mansion looked to have withstood the renaissance. The boys quivered in growing anticipation outside the wrought iron gates. Beyond them was what once had been abundant and serene gardens, now nothing more than a neglected plot of land over run with weeds.  
  
The decrepit fountains were covered with moss instead of sparkling waters. The once immaculate ponds of multi-colored fish belonged solely to the slimy lily pads and frogs. A doomed castle loomed ahead, it's broken and dusty windows peered down upon their hiding spot. The peaks of the towers pierced through the fog, desperately trying to escape the ivy that threatened to devour the East walls. The house that had once been a thing of splendor was left in ruins.  
  
"Who would allow such beauty to wallow in misery?" Harry's mouth gaped open. "No doubt this was once the most magnificent castle I have ever seen, aside from Hogwarts. Now all I see is sorrow." Harry's voice went soft with sadness. "Maybe it will be grand again, someday." Ron was always the optimist. The silence was deafening.  
  
Harry desperately fought the urge to turn back. Willing himself forward he pressed Ron through the gates and followed him into the shadows. Creeping along the boundary he paused and pulled Ron into a sweaty handshake and said, "This is where we part. I have to go this way." He pointed to the forest looming off to the right. "Head on up to the castle, but remain alert. This stillness makes me uneasy. Good luck." Ron's gulp was loud enough to alert the dozing frogs. With a splash they dove into the muddy pond water.  
  
The distance stretched as the two swiftly headed to opposite destinations. Each accepted that the fate of at least one other depended on their triumph. Harry carried Hermione's future in his every step, and Ron was responsible for Draco. It was a heavy burden for both.  
  
Determined to complete this as fast as possible Harry crept to the tree line and slipped into the dense gathering. The foliage made his progress slow. The lack of any penetrating moonlight also hindered his steps. His eyes scanned the ground for any footprints until he couldn't see his hand right in front of him. The canopy blocked nearly all light as Harry dropped to his knees in the brush and cautiously crawled.  
  
He was armed with his wand but refused to illuminate the end for fear of drawing attention directly to him. In the night as black as can be, it was a safe assumption that anyone within a mile radius would be immediately drawn to any form of light. He struggled with the thorns and got tangled up twice. Harry hoped that Ron was having better luck indoors.  
  
The powerful fists of Lucius collided with Draco's face. How dare he defy his own father? The purple bruises were covering Draco's cheekbone and swollen eye. Lucius removed Hermione's wand from the inside folds of his robes and aimed it at his son. Powerful green jets hit him in his exposed chest.  
  
The few hairs there were instantly singed off along with the first layer of skin. Draco's nerve endings were lightly toasted and ached. He smiled sweetly at his father and politely asked, "Once more please, I have yet to get the tan I so desperately need." The older Malfoy hid the amusement in his gray eyes as he replied, "Funny. I never knew you to have a sense of humor."  
  
A sudden chill stirred as Lord Voldemort slid into the chamber. He seemed to float and Draco found his clear eye searching for concealed ropes that suspended him. The Master of the Deatheaters began speaking, yet his pallid lips never moved. "Lucius, greet our guests as I decipher the prophecy." He produced the glowing pensive. It spun slightly as he gently laid it on the table. His wand pointed fiercely at the bowl shaped object as faster and faster it started to twirl.  
  
"Expedio Argumentum" The voice commanded to the spinning bowl. A silver flash erupted from the end of the wand, but nothing else happened. The frown deepened on the weathered and ashen face of Voldemort. Draco was unfamiliar with the next few spells.  
  
"Commonest Secrete!" Veins bulged with the effort as nothing occurred. The shouts of "Abstruse...Adaperio..." each went without the desired effects and the Master was becoming increasingly frustrated. Horrendous voice echoed loudly in the room "Apertum!"  
  
The last spell to unlock the pensive had backfired. The protective field around the spinning flash of iridescence had intensified and released a bolt of brilliant orange light, striking Voldemort. He instantly crumbled to the ground and his body went as limp as a rag doll. Draco's vision was hazy due to his father's latest 'attentions'.  
  
He had witnessed the Dark Lord go down after numerous failed attempts to do something to the spinning object on the far table, but his murky mind wouldn't put two and two together. He wished that Hermione were in the room, only Nancy Drew rivaled her skills at mystery solving.  
  
The handle of the heavy wooden door jiggled an arrival. Draco's heart skipped a beat as he twisted his neck, furious at the dizzy spells that resulted. A head of fire colored hair popped into the room. Draco wondered if hallucinations at this stage were a bad sign. Ron's eyes searched the room quickly and settled on Voldemort. His nervousness made them go as wide as saucers.  
  
He stepped fully into the room and Draco had time to emit a grateful sigh. "Thank God for Weasley. I didn't assume that any of you would actually come to save me...Hurry, Lucius will return shortly. If he finds you here, there will be hell to pay." Draco was whispering quickly, unaware that Ron had not stepped forward. "Ron, this is no time to lose your nerve, man. We've got to get out of here."  
  
Ron's approach was swift and resolute. His arm swung back and harshly he backhanded Draco across the face with all the force he possessed. The wind was smacked from him in the unexpected assault. Ron's face flashed unsuppressed hate at the taller blonde.  
  
His knuckles grazed the temples of the bound youth as his rage erupted in shouts. "Slimy bastard, son of a bitch!" On and on the stream of obscenities gushed as Ron persistently struck him until he considered Draco to be half dead. The commotion woke Hermione from her oblivion in the chamber next door. She heard Ron's screams of loathing through the walls, and frantically cried out "Ron! Ron, I'm over here."  
  
Ron's fists ceased flying at his nemesis and his gaze flew to the separating wall. Oh twist of fate. Why the hell was Hermione in the room next door? Had she heard him? Of course she had, otherwise she wouldn't have called out. "Damn." Ron muttered. He pushed back the adjoining door and rushed to Hermione's side. She was also covered in blood and bruises. Tears slipped from her as she sobbed her relief. Ron fumbled shakily with her bonds. He released her and she collapsed weakly into his arms.  
  
Ron's thin body held her tightly as she cried pitifully into his shoulder. Through the open doorway she could see the upper half of Voldemort lying unconscious on the floor. "Ron, what happened?" She asked. Ron's eyes flew to the scene, as he desperately searched for a plausible excuse. "I took care of Voldemort, for now."  
  
A speculative eyebrow rose. (She was taking on some of Draco's more pleasant personality traits lately) Hermione's face became incredulous as she requested "How?' Ron blushed, apparently that was not going to work, and quickly he replied "Well, he was already out cold when I got there."  
  
Her forehead creased with concern. "Then who were you yell..." Ron cut her off before she could finish. "It doesn't hurt to get a few good kicks in, now does it, just to be on the safe side?" His deceitful smile reassured her and he exhaled inwardly at the passed moment. Hermione peered back into the neighboring room. Draco was hanging limply in a bloody mass suspended from the similar chains in the ceiling.  
  
The tears fell harder, knowing they had shared a common hell, separated by only the one wall. Draco had apparently taken the worst of it but she had not been spared the same torments. The multiple lashings and iodine burns, the administered disciplines of her loves father would linger forever in her mind. Her nightmares come true.  
  
Remembering the words Voldemort had spoken about her friends' fates; she gasped "Harry! Ron, where is Harry, is he alright?" Ron's eyes searched her face in his adoration. "Harry's in the forest, searching for you. I am sure that he's fine. Don't worry; I'm going to get you out of here. Just hold on tightly to me." He lifted her with some effort, his scrawny arms strained at her weight.  
  
She was apprehensive. Being carried by Ron did not offer her the support and security that Draco's powerful arms had. She pointed faintly to Draco's room. "Ron, you must get Draco out of here. Lucius, he'll kill him." Ron's steps halted and a soft shudder passed through him. Hermione had felt his reluctance. "Please, get him out first." In his poisoned heart his temper boiled over at her selfless request.  
  
Harry had been rummaging about the musky forest floor, desperately following the pair of footprints in the failing light of the moon when a flare shot past his right ear. He threw himself to the ground. Bright flashes illuminated the sky and breaking branches and crumpling leaves signified that his assailant was closer than Harry had ever hoped.  
  
Fear of being discovered, huddled barely concealed on the ground pushed Harry, marine-style, in a half crouch and scrambling as fast as his legs could take him. He dodged and ducked under several more attempted attacks before he reached a thick tree that could offer shelter from any more fireballs.  
  
The point of origin was roughly 200 feet away, as Harry estimated from the last projection. He took aim with his wand gripped tighter than normal due to his narrow escape, and returned fire at his unknown adversary. As his curse exploded the trunk of a nearby oak he glimpsed Lucius stealthily creeping along the trees. Harry was slightly dismayed that Lucius never presented a clear target. He was constantly swerving and ducking, always using the foliage to his advantage.  
  
Harry realized that he had continued to retreat all the while returning the savage blasts in a desperate game of Battleship. In a moment one of them shall lose and discover the exact position of the other. He didn't hesitate when he backed into the marble front steps of Malfoy Manor. He turned and ran inside. Panting against the soon barricaded door, Harry distressed that if Hermione had lingered in the forest, Lucius had discovered her by now. Disappointment swallowed the brunette as he quietly began his search for Ron.  
  
Ron mumbled to himself, careful not to alert Hermione as he roughly unleashed Draco and he watched the body crash upon the hard floor with a sickening thud. He kicked the Slytherin's ribs and violently grabbed his ankles. He swung the bloody mess of Draco around until Ron was facing the rising stone staircase that led to the main floor. Dragging Draco behind him sadistically he climbed each step.  
  
Listening with satisfaction after each stair as Draco's previously battered head smacked brutally against the stones with a delightful squish. Ron giggled, praying that his opponent's brains were being sloshed against the unforgiving stairs, waiting for the one that would finally split open the hard skull and end his existence. Draco's unfortunate demise would remove Ron from the villain to the helpless would-be rescuer that he longed to play.  
  
Draco was the only one who could admit to Ron's sinister participation in Voldemort's plans, once he awoke. That information was not likely to please Hermione, or force her to come running into his arms, as was his goal. Ron was almost positive that Draco was in a deep coma, at least for the time being.  
  
He didn't have the opportunity to slay him now, not with Hermione looking on gratefully from the open doorway. Soon he would make his move. Ron vowed that Draco would never wake from his concussion, he would see to it.  
  
Meanwhile he contemplated what he was going to do about his Dark Lord. He was unconscious on the dungeon floor, and Ron knew that if he woke to find his loyal servants were not by his side, and his victims had been released he was going to come after him. The thought of today's consequences was too horrific to imagine. All Ron's cautious planning had been laid waste in a matter of one simple night.  
  
He had strived to keep the ever-growing hatred hidden from Harry, letting him believe that it was Harry's idea to go after Draco, for all the right reasons. Apparently the ransom note had been executed correctly, but Hermione was not supposed to have been harmed. He knew that the Dark Lord would have his own schemes, but Ron had been promised that his 'treasure' would not be battered or abused.  
  
The trap had failed miserably; Lucius had not been waiting in the dungeons with the new plan of action when Ron arrived. He had been brash enough to take out his aggressions on a venerable Draco, though that part had felt wonderfully pleasing. Hermione had been detained and beaten in the next room, and had overheard him. Worst of all - Harry Potter was evidently and still unbelievably alive. (As he could hear from the strained shouts of "Ron! Hey, Ron, where are you?") Nothing was going his way.  
  
In exchange for his eternal servitude starting with the betrayal of Draco and Harry, Ron had sealed his fate with the Deatheaters Regiment. He was a welcome backstabbing addition to the evil army of Voldemort. In the sad exchange he would receive phenomenal powers, his true love Hermione, and fame of his own. No longer known in his new circle as "The Golden Boy's Sidekick". He would be renamed The-One-Who-Delivered-Potter. The title held a certain degree of authority.  
  
He was smiling to himself as another splat of Draco's head brought him to the landing where Harry was bent over, panting and exclaimed "Time to Go, Now. Lucius was right behind me." Harry gathered Hermione to him and ran up the stairs. It was slow going as Harry carried a bruised Hermione out the back door and circled around to the gates.  
  
Ron still dragged Draco, claiming that he was too heavy to carry. Carelessly he left a trail of bloody mess and bits of flesh across the grounds of the savage garden and back through the creaking iron fence. Immediately upon arriving on the other side all four apparated to the seclusion of the forbidden forest and headed slowly towards the safety and lights of Hogwarts. 


	18. Claustrophobia and The Proposition

Disclaimer: I own nothing...but my sick and twisted imagination  
  
-Deb: Thanks for sending me the email. I hate it when I make errors. I am grateful for the help. -Sunshine: Thanks. -Time Bomb: Sorry I didn't take that twist on things. Thanks for reviewing. -Lily: I always liked Percy best, his character is definitely quirky- In a pansy –ass sorta way. -KivaidensGirl: I also had problems, but all better now. Besides I have been preoccupied with my unhealthy obsession with AFI. Can't seem to get past Davey. Must concentrate on Draco....mmmm. And yes the whole "Downfall of Lucius" part got enormous respect. I am too pleased. -Anastasia: Absolutely hot. Damn those peppers. -Ghypscee: If I didn't have a backache I would bow...And no you don't need to update it after each time. -Justcrazyobsessed: Thanks for the review. Orangey: Wow! I feel your wrath. Great! Exactly what I wanted. Thanks a million. -DHL: I enjoyed writing that last chapter so much.. I was forced to laugh with each head hit. -Luver-of-Tom: Your ideas are very romantic. I respect that you offered to share them with me. But at this time I must humbly decline. Maybe next story. -Lochness: My tale is not quite finished but I am in the process of concluding my thoughts into a coherent stream. After that I will do a rough draft, then finalize it on the comp. Only after I pick it apart and criticize it a million times will I actually post it. -Raven G: Hey! Nice name... -Ktgirl: If you let me know what your confused about and then I can help. -Mirage: Thanks I am writing as fast as I can. -Hugs-A-lot: Wow, thank you. -Medea: Thank you for the loyalty even if you didn't like where it went. It's nice to meet another who escapes married life for fantasy sporadically. -Ann: Never fear here is more. -Teenie: Thank you so much. -RonWaesley: Thanks for the glowing review. -Lavender: Ton's of gratitude. -Sapphire: Thanks. -Beth: LOL! You are wonderful. -Brit: Oh my god, that is so nice of you. -PolishPrincess: Thank you. I won't forget to mention that. -Lizzy: Ron definitely needs a good spanking. Poor Draco. -Staarz: Thank you for your review. And LOTR is wonderfully brilliant! -Jamie: Thanks. -HarryPotterFan: I will try to write as fast as possible. -Tinkerbell: Sorry, nope, Ron's the bad guy in my story. I don't think I plan on changing it. I don't quite know myself. But there is always hope... -IcyBlueEyes: Thank you kindly.. -Lenne: Thanks you very much. I hope that you read more. -BenKingLover: Sorry I haven't had time to update lately.  
  
NOW ON TO THE STORY! Chapter 18: Claustrophobia and The Proposition  
  
Once through the threshold of Hogwarts Draco was immediately rushed to the Head Nurse's station. Hermione refused to be parted from his side, which was a blessing because she kept insisting that she didn't need any medical attentions. She was so deep in shock that the only way the duo could assure that she got the required healing was to insist that she accompany Draco to Madam Pomfrey's. Naturally, Hermione's strong willed ideals couldn't argue with the request.  
  
The stern faced witch turned Ron and Harry away at the door instantly as she ushered in the injured couple. The boy's pleas to remain and offer moral support for their dear friend went unrecognized. They were firmly cast out and refused entrance. In his wrath, Ron kicked the closed door. "Calm down Ron, I am sure that Hermione will be fine." Harry threw an arm around his best friend's slumped shoulders. Ron's scowl was the only reply.  
  
Harry and Ron were granted permission by Professor McGonagall, after wearily relating their two choppy sides to the events, to skip lessons for the rest of the day to regain their sapped strength. The teachers arranged to meet that night with all house heads to discuss the situation and what new precautionary measures shall be in effect. Naturally the security shall have to be reinforced. Dumbledore suggested they enlist the aid of the Order.  
  
The Headmaster concealed his confusion as to why the Slytherins would attack at that moment and who had assisted them. He informed the Order that they had to keep vigil over the four students more closely now that there was an unseen force at work here. Facing Voldemort was a hardship in its own right, but to face the unknown was even more difficult. This was exactly the advantage that Voldemort would use against them. With someone leaking inside information, no one was safe.  
  
Dumbledore refused to express the deep concern that he felt after speaking with Hermione privately upon her waking in the hospital.. She had apologized relentlessly for stealing and losing the pensive, but the old wizard knew of the protective charms that were placed around the pensive to keep its secrets locked up tight. In all probability Voldemort wouldn't be able to get past them. (Unless he got lucky.)  
  
His sparkling eyes were troubled as he pondered the dire situation. The problem was larger than anyone could imagine. He harbored his trepidation, not wanting to alarm any of the students. Always the voice of reason he focused on the tasks at hand, knowing that time was soon to run out and the culprit would be revealed. Even if the consequences were disastrous.  
  
In the hospital wing Hermione recovered consciousness. She had been resting on the cot parallel to Draco's. He was still in a deep slumber, and would probably not wake for some time. The nurse had performed many spells to restore the well being of the two, but finally informed her that only time would heal the remainder of the wounds.  
  
Hospitals were not high on Hermione's list of luxury resorts. The smells twisted her intestines into knots. She became overly anxious and constantly nervous. She had always been in good health, with the exception of when she had been hospitalized after being petrified. But at least then she had been unaware of the claustrophobia that rose, threatening to swallow her in a blaze of fear.  
  
She refused to leave Draco's side while he was still so helpless. He needed her and that took precedence for Hermione over her terror of hospitals. She paced the room to ease her jittery nerves. When she grew exhausted she would climb up next to Draco on the bed and wrap her arms around him tightly, afraid of the nightmares return, more vivid for being memories.  
  
Draco was covered in a sheen sweat and he constantly mumbled in his feverish sleep. He was restless and Hermione's heart ached to witness this. His incoherent babble worried her as she applied another cool rag to his forehead. The silky blond hair was drenched and sticking to his face and she lovingly pushed it back. Her fingers traced a route gently along his bruises and swollen lips. She fought the urge to kiss them away.  
  
After tedious hours of nail-biting Draco's temperature finally receded. This signified that he was fighting the infections and would most likely pull through. The nurse kindly woke Hermione to inform her of the status changes. She smiled gratefully at the nurse as she slid back into the chair positioned by the bedside.  
  
The nurse asked if she was strong enough to receive visitors, since there were two that were driving her to insanity with their relentless pleading. Like an attacking army they had camped outside the doors almost all day. Hermione released a small snort, knowing the disposition of her close friends very intimately. If they were banned from her side they had most definitely thrown themselves bodily at the doors, begged on knees at Dumbledore's noble feet, and called in a bomb threat before retiring for the day.  
  
If persistence were a virtue worthy of awards those two would be covered in medals. Nine times out of ten it was that persistence that helped them succeed. Ron was the only one waiting still by the door when the nurse cracked the doors. He had been snoring loudly but jumped to his unsteady feet the moment the heavy wood budged and instinctively threw as much of his body between the crack as possible to prevent it from closing again without him inside.  
  
He managed to secure a right foot and his left hand in the space before the nurse pushed back the doors completely. "Mr. Weasley, if you don't mind. I am trying to open the doors. You may come in now and stop loitering about my chambers with your incessant nagging." She graciously stepped back and allowed him to push hastily past her.  
  
Draco had felt the cool towels applied to his scalding head and eyes from the dark end of a tunnel. He drifted in his mind back towards the pleasure of cool relief from the burning haze he felt locked in. His eyes had struggled to open as his ears overheard two voices speaking as if underwater. Willing himself to concentrate he only succeeded in pushing a blinding headache forward.  
  
Muffled conversations of the two didn't cease because he had a migraine. So he tried again to grasp what was being said. "Two friends.....outside.....waiting for you all day.....Strong enough.....receive visitors....." The spoken words were a jigsaw puzzle that was missing crucial pieces and were not making up a proper sentence.  
  
Then he heard a loud sob and a low "oomph." Ron had seen Hermione and tackled her roughly in a full on run. The embrace was rough and forceful. Ron was literally squeezing the life out of Hermione. "Ron, I can't breath." She managed to squirm out of his intense hug. Ron eased his grip but spun Hermione around the floor in his arms and set her down only after they had reached the other side of the room.  
  
Draco's eyes fluttered open momentarily and he beheld Hermione standing with her back to him wrapped possessively in Ron's arms. Both faces held the others gaze lovingly. Ron's head dipped closer to the dizzy girl's and his lips slipped on top of Hermione's in a hasty wet kiss. Draco's eyes shut and he quietly groaned.  
  
Hermione pushed Ron's over enthusiastic body from her and blushed. She had known that he would be relieved, just not that relieved. It was flattering, but she did not reciprocate his affections. She lightly slapped his arm and glanced back guiltily at Draco peacefully sleeping.  
  
Draco was nauseas with the effort to pay attention. His surroundings sunk into blackness. He had just witnessed his girlfriend kissing the Weasel and, as furious as he was, he still couldn't manage to keep his eyes open. The words swam in his head in another catatonic wave. "I never properly thanked you for all that you've done."  
  
Hermione's soft tone carried like a whisper to Draco on the opposite side of the room. He forced himself to slit open his eyes once more. Ron's arms slid down her hips and he stepped into her personal boundaries. "I don't need you to say the words, Hermione. Your body shows me so much more than anything spoken." Hermione's face went blank with puzzlement. Ron knew that she was trying to interpret the comment, but he quickly continued his proposition before she could grasp the hidden innuendos.  
  
Ron's eyes skimmed to Draco's face quickly, observing that he was alert and paying close attention to their little performance. Ron's sinful grin was hid by Hermione's shadow as he tenderly and slyly slid the back of his hand along Hermione's exposed arm. His other hand hovered one inch away from her bottom, making the illusion to anyone at a distance that he was caressing her.  
  
Ron's heart practically jumped from his chest with enthusiasm, this was perfect. Draco could assume any number of possibilities while he rotted in his bed. Ron had achieved his goal. He was inside the chamber and Hermione was nearly in his arms. All he had to do was to remove Draco from the picture to have all his fantasies come true.  
  
Hermione was still shaken over the ordeal, and had not fully spoken about her experiences to any one other than Dumbledore. Being consoled by Ron was a treasured experience to her fragile nerves. She sniffled as the tears poured out. "Oh, Ron, it was horrible" Her voice was an undertone. A summer breeze could have carried it away it was spoken so softly. Draco couldn't hear most of what was being said as Hermione's confession poured into Ron's chest where she clung for dear life.  
  
"Everything is different..... I am Different...Terrible ...No way I can be who I was before. ...I don't ..ever want to go back... I am so afraid of everything, but mostly..... Draco." Hermione's voice broke into deep sobs as this last statement broke through Draco's cloudy mind. He couldn't believe his hearing. She couldn't have just told that traitorous slime bag of a weasel that she feared ..him? He desperately wanted to speak but his parched throat couldn't release even the slightest croak.  
  
Hermione was not aware that part of her phrase could have been taken so harshly or she would have rephrased it. The rise and fall of her voice along with the uncontrollable sobbing had allowed Draco only to hear fragments of the actual conversation. Hermione's true words were "Now that it is over everything is different. I worry that I am different. With all the terrible things that happened to us, there's no way that I can be who I was before this. I am scared he'll find me. Ron, I don't ever want to go back there. I am so afraid of everything, but mostly of losing Draco."  
  
Ron was compassionately stroking her hair and kissing her tears away, all the while rubbing her back comfortingly. Draco's energy was sapped as he fell back against the crumpled pillows silently. He couldn't hold open his eyes a second longer but there was no mistaking Ron's parting comments to Hermione. "Darling you look tired, you haven't eaten all day. Please let me escort you to dinner. We can have a quiet meal in my room. You must be starving, and Draco isn't going to have any miraculous recovery in the next few minutes."  
  
Ron slipped his arm under her elbow and started to lead Hermione from the room. When she began to shake her head he pushed her harder towards the door saying, "You need to keep up your strength. I won't take no for an answer." Ron's false concern was an Oscar winning performance. He had acted the fretful companion perfectly. Draco believed it utterly. He drifted into unconscious misery of tormenting dreams. Ron and Hermione in passionate embraces, taunting him. Each second for him was pure agony, yet he didn't have the strength to wake, not yet. 


	19. The Fatal Blow

Disclaimer: I own nothing...but my sick and twisted imagination  
  
A/N: Visit afireinside.com for info on my obsession. P.S.- Davey is mine!  
  
Ktgirl: Thanks, and you are absolutely right about the chapter. PO99GP: Yes, kick him in the pills! Ann: Your encouragement inspires me. Kendra: Your ideas are not far from mine! Way to go! Chillkat: Your review was awesome. Dragonmouse: Patience my friend, I must think and type first! LOL. Draco-lover59: Your support is appreciated. Anastasia: Yes, I don't care for R/H pairing either. Beth: I must torment him, because I love him so damn much! Dramaqueen: Ron definitely deserves to die a traitor's death! Kivaidens Girl: Being apart from my reviewers hurts so much. Besides I am battling with the descriptive words for my thoughts. Cannot be redundant, ya know. Also trying to avoid writer's block. I shall try to update soon. DHL: I am an evil person. I know and accept this. LOL. Lizzy: Hey another vote for kickin' Ron in the arse! Right on. Time Bomb: My head is floating to the sky as we speak... What an ego boost. Bbychick: I humbly accept the challenge. Capricorn: I will update as soon as I can. Mirage: Lol! You're too awesome! Taweret: A new reviewer. Great! Knivesgirl: Your karma is passing through my screen...yeah!  
  
Chapter 19: The Fatal Blow  
  
Dinner with Ron was a pleasant event. He remained a gentleman as he fed Hermione spoonfuls of warm tomato soup. She barely noticed the two platefuls of assorted fruits and vegetables that she had consumed.  
  
Conversation was kept light as Ron dipped a knife in a crock of artichoke and bean spread as soft as butter. He lavishly dispersed it on the whole grain loaf. Never ceasing his idle chitchat about which Quidditch teams had a chance at the World Cup this year he gently lifted the morsel to Hermione's lips.  
  
Her hunger was pacified and with a slightly bloated stomach Hermione felt sedated by the constant drone of Ron's voice. Sleepiness crept upon her as a yawn broke through. Ron paused in mid-sentence and grinned fondly at Hermione. "Hermy, you are exhausted. Lie down on my bed for a moment. I will wake you in one hour."  
  
"Oh, I couldn't possibly. I have got to head back to the hospital and check on Draco." Hermione shivered with disgust at the prospect of returning to the sterile environment for the night. Another yawn erupted from Hermione as Ron pushed her at the bedroom door.  
  
She decided that a few minutes of rest couldn't hurt anyone and proceeded into the darkened room. Ron's figure was a silhouette in the door as she lay back upon the pillows. Sleep was falling fast as she murmured "Ron, will you check on Draco for me? I don't want him to worry if he should wake up and I am not there."  
  
Ron's reply was icy cold "Certainly". He knew this might be the only chance he got to remove Draco from Hermione's life and was steeled to go directly there and complete the plan when out of his chimney flew a green envelope with black writing and hit him in the forehead. The thin and flowing handwriting belonged to none other than Lucius. He cringed inwardly at what he could assume the letter said.  
  
It was an immediate summons to Malfoy Manor to reciprocate the events of the other night to Lord Voldemort. After reading the letter the flames in the fireplace roared green, indicating that he had only minutes to jump in before they would return back to normal.  
  
It was a window only open for urgent travel needs. Ron, who knew that he could not get out of this grim convention, did not neglect the command. There was a Grand Counsel meeting to decide his fate upon the conclusion of the assembly. His heart wept as it reminded him that this was not a good sign, and he would have to remain calm before the gathering and explain his actions.  
  
Tears welled up in his eyes as Ron leapt into the fireplace a second before the orange flames returned.  
  
Harry slipped into the hospital silently and began searching around for Hermione. He slowly walked the distance to Draco's bed and choked on his surprise. Draco was sitting up fully healed. Harry smile faded as he noticed that Draco was in a sour mood indeed. Draco's full lips pouted and his eyes slit with a tangible hatred. If he crossed his arms more rigidly across his chest he would cut off his blood flow.  
  
Draco looked damn near asphyxiating on his unspoken rage. The veins bulged hazardously as he quaked in the tiny bed. Harry proceeded in his direction as he tempted fate. He showed no fear of Draco knowing that the boy was not predetermined to be his killer due to the foretold prophesy.  
  
He even had the testicular fortitude to smile lightly as he sauntered over to the pissed off blonde. He tried to keep his tone friendly as he asked, "Have you seen Hermione?" Draco's eyes radiated with his vehemence. "No need to ask the crippled kid if he is even feeling up to par, Potter."  
  
With a wave of his hand he continued, the frenzied pitch of his voice increasing with each breath. "No, it's ok. Hermione left a while ago. She is at this moment, no doubt, snogging with your best buddy – Mr. Weasel! The traitorous scum of the earth, and I can't even get out of this bloody bed to go and rescue her from getting herself into another fine mess like she did the other night!"  
  
Draco only succeeded in making himself tumble out of the sterilized bed onto the cold floor with a thud. His legs were wrapped like a mummy and the white bandages on his head were showing dark red blotches where the blood had begun to seep through.  
  
Harry's confusion at Draco's sentimental outburst was quickly dispersed as Draco spilled out the truth to Harry's unbelieving ears. He grew very calm as he portrayed his closest and dearest friend in the place of the enemy. Though he found the tale extravagant, to say the least, he couldn't help but notice that it rang with the undeniable facts that Ron had been acting strange since the beginning of Wand Craft classes.  
  
Harry had been ashamed to admit it but he noticed the coldness between them growing, and once he even glimpsed an odd look coming from Ron during one of their routine lunch meetings. It had almost been a look of promised death.  
  
But he had assumed that he was incorrectly reading his comrade, and dismissed the situation immediately. He never wanted to believe that Ron could do something like that: To set them all up. Why? That was the main question running through both of their minds. Or at least Harry's.  
  
Draco had explained the confrontation that the pair had earlier in the hospital wing and where he suspected they were at this very moment. But, it was Harry who insisted that they go and find her and Ron.  
  
He was determined to turn Ron into Dumbledore and the Order for proper questioning, against Draco's wishes that they crucify him upon the immediate revealing of his whereabouts.  
  
Harry could sympathize with Draco's biased opinion; if he were in that situation he wouldn't be so sure he'd turn in Ron either. Personal vengeance always held a charm for one deeply afflicted like Draco. But Harry had to be positive that Ron was the guilty party that Draco had made him seem, and not vice versa.  
  
He refused to succumb to Draco's vendetta. Harry informed Draco that he would not assist him in his search for Hermione unless he agreed to dismiss his plans for retribution once they found Ron. Draco begrudgingly accepted.  
  
The two boys, once despised and loathed enemies, slowly headed out the heavy wooden door of the Hospital and carefully made their way to Ron's quarters. Harry supported Draco as he wrapped his arm around the boy's narrow hips and informed him to throw his arm over Harry's shoulder. The hallways were a slippery length of disasters waiting to happen as they cautiously inched their way through the night.  
  
Upon reaching Ron's door, neither boy knocked but entered as they prepared for whatever was on the opposite side of the door. Not a sound came from the room. Draco removed his arm from Harry's supporting frame and stepped into the darkness on unsteady legs.  
  
Hermione was wrapped up in the untidy covers of Ron's bed and slept peacefully. Draco fell to his knees as hot tears poured down his face. The tangled look of her clothes told him everything. Her shirt was rumpled and her stomach was showing where the covers had fallen away. He could only assume the same of her skirt.  
  
His despair was so thick he choked on it. He couldn't force himself to leave, yet knew that was exactly what he had to do. He'd leave the new lovers to their games. They had used him and like the perfect clown, he had jumped through her hoops. Not anymore. Now that he knew her for the calculating heartless bitch that she truly was, he would never let her manipulate him again.  
  
Misery engulfed him through the silent screaming. In his breaking heart Draco was suffocating on his absolute betrayal. He knelt on the cold and cruel floor for what seemed to be hours, praying that when he once again opened his eyes the view would not be painful.  
  
He waited for the clam to wash over him, as it had when his father had tormented his body. But this torture was not to his flesh but to something no other person could see. Hermione had crushed him in the only way that anyone could. An assault on the one place he forgot to keep guarded, a fatal blow to his heart.  
  
A/N: Thanks to all my fans for their unending encouragement through these, my darkest hours. I have been having some personal problems concerning my health and cannot update as often as I'd like. Sorry if it is a while between my chapters. I appreciate all your continued support more than words can ever express. I hope to be recovered soon enough to keep a few of my reviewers. If not, I'll understand.  
  
Deepest gratitude.  
  
Raven 


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